Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
The moai faced inland
Away from the sea
Ghosts of dead leaders
Born from deities you see

Hewn from volcanic tuff
Soft no doubt
Compared to basalt or diorite
Which Are ******* to dig out

If they had only turned the other way
They might have seen disaster coming
Dutch killers on Easter morn
Peruvian slavers
Had them running

But it is a small island
And there was no tree cover
They cut them down so long ago
So they could grow some tucker

European disease
South American ******
Cut the population down low
As a couple o hundred years rolled by
And crops refused to grow

So the god's where cast down
Face down on the ground
Venerated protectors brought low
The people despaired
Beyond all hope and care
A paradise with no seeds to sow

Then the pickings were slim
Raiders had no one to ****
So they left them alone to their plight
But the moai are back on their feet now
Resurrected
As a world heritage site.
You threw me to the snakes
leaving me to fend for myself,
discarding me like an object that
you had grown bored of.
And,
when i crawled out from the pit
more powerful than before,
venom coursing through my veins ,
I became the monster.
I became the one to be feared.

How easy it is to forget that monsters are not born
but made
and my dear,
you are responsible for every inch of the creature I have become.
Your sun has set,
And my butterflies flew away
But even under your moon,
I'm drawn to you like a moth to a flame
Your flame so bright,
With a purplish hue,
I'll try every night,
To get closer to you
serve me a slice of pie
with a knife and two forks
and a side of stolen looks

we'll split our piece
equally discreet
severed, yet even and clean

quietly savoring the saccharine saliva
as our tongues linger over
a bite of shared sin
Hull hand-
Rubbed
Hand polished

Too slick still
For slow barnacle.

Bright brass-
Her bell already
Salvaged (stolen)

Before she clapped
A sound
I fell down the steps
Of the Lincoln memorial
It really hurt my knees
I fell down the stairs
Of the Lincoln memorial
In front of
Near a hundred
South Koreans

We went to
Holsten's
And sat in Jimmy's booth
Bout a month before he died
Should have seen it there
In that final episode
It was written
All over his eyes.

— The End —