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lexander-jonesPoems
I was born with the sun shining upon my skin I was born into a world saturated with sin pestilence shone, through his void grinned for the second I broke from the womb the sky above dimmed birthed not from a mother but a sick man my coming heralded an end, the age of apostasy began - those I loved killed by the evil inside cursed by a Devils backbone, there was no where to hide [but inside their minds] now I live with the beautiful people and their screeching cries I avoid their clumpy fingers, their black empty eyes, vying for flesh and choking upon lungs of rubber floating with a ghastly gracefulness that makes the north wind shudder [bullet wounds gunshot holes -] with the devil inside I know only fear knowing nothing of love, my soul bedridden and queer - [maggots and live thriving between fleshy folds] in the distance a woman cries, piercing the silence like a bell surely that can't be - surely that can't be the scent of *** I smell? Alas 'twas only wishful thinking, my pretence playing unfair, the beautiful people finally had prey and were stripping her bones bare - ruthless, ecstatic, bodies twisted and vile clutching strips of flesh only then did they laugh and smile.
0
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 10:27 AM UTC
Age Of Apostasy
I was born with the sun shining upon my skin I was born into a world saturated with sin pestilence shone, through his void grinned for the second I broke from the womb the sky above dimmed birthed not from a mother but a sick man my coming heralded an end, the age of apostasy began - those I loved killed by the evil inside cursed by a Devils backbone, there was no where to hide [but inside their minds] now I live with the beautiful people and their screeching cries I avoid their clumpy fingers, their black empty eyes, vying for flesh and choking upon lungs of rubber floating with a ghastly gracefulness that makes the north wind shudder [bullet wounds gunshot holes -] with the devil inside I know only fear knowing nothing of love, my soul bedridden and queer - [maggots and live thriving between fleshy folds] in the distance a woman cries, piercing the silence like a bell surely that can't be - surely that can't be the scent of *** I smell? Alas 'twas only wishful thinking, my pretence playing unfair, the beautiful people finally had prey and were stripping her bones bare - ruthless, ecstatic, bodies twisted and vile clutching strips of flesh only then did they laugh and smile.
lexander-jones
Written by
lexander-jones
21/M
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 10:27 AM UTC
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