In the eye of the god

In the eye of the god
Is a sky, is a clod,
Is a monarch's dream;
Not as rich, as it seems;
The peasants think it odd
His sceptre is gnawed.

In the hold of the ship,
Sits a loose pair of lips,
Whose ship sinking time
Lives only in rhyme;
Like a radar's blip,
From a whiskey nip.

In the drunken god's boat,
Is a castle and moat,
And a peasant's revolt,
And a pure white colt
They've mistaken for god;
But who's really just a dog
in molt.

Kerry O'Connor
Boxes within boxes - ideas within ideas. Thought-provoking words.

Pendemic
Very unique style. The imagery drifts the reader away into some unknown territory. Well penned.