PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

essence will always be tainted
and I dismiss sweetness under strict scrutiny
taste is learned
like a spiral of crimson
an acquired taste

the richness of iron and salt
and the eyes lust for each new wound
more exquisite than simple day
weak wretched fearful little prey
I have practiced my skill and the success of my quests

my shadow will not claim any innocence as I smell the brimstone
tempting is original to me as is my entrance to hell
and when I descend
I will make no concealment
I care nothing for this mortal world

the jagged boundary
the vacuous denial
the draw of feebleness
mortality is broken
like iron angels in this fallen domain

their bound cadavers, a decoration
implicit between pillar and post
their eyes and necks punctured
emphatic in the plagues inflicted
beneath centuries of scarlet scars