Slave

[brandontoh]

Bow down, slave
To the sceptor,
The grape,
The bread,
The worm, no better -- This stanza takes me to Egypt immediately. Considering what you're aiming for, I'd say that's bad news. It's awesome that you're trying to go for a more subtle approach with your poems, but you need to have enough clues. I feel that the scepter and slave parts sort of distort the whole image you're trying to build.

You drive the land to its barren death, -- This line is kind of hyperbolic in my opinion, and it actually furthered the Egypt image I had in my head.
And when they say wear white, you do
But beneath linen -- linen doesn't help too, but it may be just me this time.
Lies the bare, cold flesh you rue

Yet white does not suit you,
You're more of a red,
A translucent purple,
If you grasp what I've said -- This line is not really needed in my opinion. I really like this stanza though, it's actually the only one that I feel hits the nail you're trying to get.

And long down the path,
When you trip and look behind,
Is the grape,
The bread,
The worm,
But none of your time.

It may be a cultural thing, but when I was in high school 2-3 years ago, we mainly mixed vodka with loads of different beverages, and drank different cocktails. Wine, beer and tequila are not the choices we'd make.