A Poem I Wrote

Here is a poem I wrote. I believe it is as near to creative writing as I have been in a while. I have a number of different endings that I wrote, but since they are all different and none perfect I will omit them for this time. The title of my poem is "The End of Metallic Numbers":


The End of Metallic Numbers

What composite to birth
Does being survive
Whence the drama
In the crime
In your head comes to life

Who is a Queen before many histories
To the end of Her metallic numbers
Half-born in the hive?

At what perfection to creation
Do your arrows arrive?
Down in the infinite divisions
Of the Forms we have primed
A snarling womb, very darkly
Changes its mind.

Thank you