Father forgive me for
I have sinned
Against myself
By adhering to the propaganda
And shackling myself to skeletal promises
The price of avarice
Paid in poisonous leeches
That drain the essence of
My now-feeble cause
They cry treason!
An eager crowd awaits
My split second
D R O P
The crunching of bones
Perverse asphyxiation
[Not quite a corpse
Not quite a martyr]
They peel back their eyelids
For the final gasp for life
And I, I, I
Let them.















Comments
Haunting.
Reminds me a bit of Poe's work.
--
....In Soviet Russia.
--
....In Soviet Russia.
Previous PageNext Page