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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.
©2008-2009 ~FiendishReflections
:iconfiendishreflections:

Author's Comments

This is one of my favorite works to date. It was written in February of 2007.

Comments


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:iconkagirinai-ninjou:
o.o
Haunting.
Reminds me a bit of Poe's work.
:iconmichiyo-chanferretha:
Thats really good. Nice job. I like your word choice.

--
....In Soviet Russia.
:iconfiendishreflections:
Thank you for the kind words.
:iconfiendishreflections:
I would describe much of my work as "haunted;" so, I suppose I achieved what I set out to do. Thank you. :)
:iconmichiyo-chanferretha:
No problem~ You have a really nice writing style.

--
....In Soviet Russia.

Details

November 28, 2008
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