The Sire

Michele Battistioli

by Michele Battistioli

Story

A liar, prier, pariah and messiah,

The defiant choir negating your denier.

Misfire on the demystifier,

Going down to the wire.

Aspire for a spitfire,

Crossing counties to enter your shire.

Empire the iris inspires,

Eye to eyelids open wide with pliers.

Synchronize the quiet conspire,

The subsider liquefies in ire,

Terrifying fight rise with the friar

Resting dire by the campfire.

Admire the burning pyre.

Fire curls cover the sapphire mire

Entire, and tire not my expire.

As a squire to your satire,

Require an appropriate attire

To compose an aria with your lyre,

So I may articulate my inquire:

Sire, will you satisfy my desire?

© Michele Battistioli 2023-02-17