Iniquity Poem by Martin Moore

INIQUITY

I receive the dark nocturnal muse
So fleet of cloven foot
I contemplate these frequent blues
His gift of poisonous root
His nightly visits coincide
With lows of dismal depth
The iniquity of suicide
Tragic thoughts of death
I write the words he brings to me
Lest they vanish and are gone
Sailing into Hades' sea
On Styx and Acheron
Scribbling down his darkened ode
I bid him, not return
The wrath of endless nights forebode
Still slave to sweet Sauterne