"In a banqueting-room with a reversible ceiling he once buried his guests in violets and other flowers, so that some were actually smothered to death, being unable to crawl out to the top." -- Scriptores Historiae Augustae, “The Life of Elagabalus,” in Historia Augusta
Imagine a sweetly scented blizzard
Of flower petals covering a feast
Presided over by a coy lizard
A mad emperor; in gold silks, a beast
The distinguished guests, intoxicated
Their bellies full and their senses beguiled
Misread his scheme, subtly calculated
To literalize flattery, reviled
For the charming fraud buries the flattered
Beneath an avalanche of perfumed lies
By a sweet, poisoned storm are we battered
When hypnotized and glutted, the truth dies
Fawning sycophants’ counterfeit kindness
Sweetly suffocates when it sees blindness
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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