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The Soul of Something Devilish
inspirations from a dark galactic alleyway. honk your horn when you leave me. warn the ones of solitude, the muse is bruised with contusions and rodeo lacerations, generations of slime grew up in here. meet my sins, my three sons: mind body and soul. easily they die, the force is weak in this one. darth help yourself to some death, take some extra for your friends. nobody needs to heed the seed of greed, forget what you learned about life and love, war and hate, peace and happiness. the fakeness is exploding with fragments embedded into so many things that purity is desperately awaited in the new issue of your syndicated diary. listen to the songs your eyes sing to you. taste the visions of your nose. be the one with the store heart and iron trap mind. the soul of something devilish.
This came across to me as being very bitter and cynical, but that's not a bad thing, dark poetry is in my opinion often as good - if not better - than happy fluffy poems. I really liked how you used the words, I liked this particularly: 'nobody needs to heed the seed of greed' it sort of reminds me of people in a shop buying things not because they need them, but because the object is on sale. That's just sad...
~Sarah