Poison unto the souls of others
Ripping love from warm beating hearts
Pounding out life on the sacrificial stone
Beaten with the club of sacrificial bone
Sanity’s presence is still unknown
As into the festering flames
of hateful fire I am thrown
And left to my own devices to devour
my own dredging dissatisfaction
So fleeting glimpses of previous failings
no longer cloud my vision
And the entirety of my entity
can meet its divine destiny
With the wretched dreaded inbred dead
In purity, surety and sour salvation.
Torn into slow decay
I’m left to shrivel away
Into the ruin Into myself
Copyright © 2010 by Turra Quine. All rights reserved. Written 02/01/2009. Published 07/06/2010.