A Poem by Wissem Kheroufi


My well –beloved he was to seem,
Both the spry escort and wise lodestar
Falling in the pit of the devil’s wicked scheme
Why hadst thou not won the spar?
Only to break his heart and mark a scar over a scar,
He thought himself reigning over hers and went along
Deeply sounder, he bragged, our love is like a Cedar
That is immensely great and gloriously strong
By infatuation my precious was blinded
And all I could do was conjecture that fate
That by the devil his Juliette was guided
Yet tricking himself, he titled her ”dear mate”
She played the game and since that date,
Darkened his world and shattered her own
Only for mercy she could supplicate
But a moral she remained, that chills to the bone
Too late for rescue, his loving soul he sold
In exchange of that of dignity and illusive pride
All hell broke loose for his rage was starkly bold,
Sweeping along that of the once was his future bride
Values became flaws; hence, by Hades’ rules he had to abide…
So when her mellow chopped-off parts were damply reeking,
Those which he amusingly, sickeningly arranged side by side,
At dawn, blood from his head was abundantly leaking.
That’s for those, who, the angels they disdain
And with their filth, the purity they fight
Ye see, both had utterly no gain
And thus my lone candle lost its light.

Wissem Kheroufi is studying Master 1 majoring in Anglo-Saxon Languages, Literature and Civilization, from Algeria. Contact: wissem.kheroufi@gmail.com

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