Author Information
Random Thoughts
Folder:
Poems
Derelict dial tones defecting the communicable source
While the fools all plot revenge upon the Kings men
The shadow holds no forms as he courses around
Around in the fields of the devils wings
While we contemplate using his playthings
She watches up with contempt holding on to something dear
Something near us wicked comes alive inside
Alive with all the anger and rage of condemned souls
Filled all the fools up with bullet holes
Left right not to make a stand
All the power in the palm of your hand.
