Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2017
under the darkened layers of silk & lush
we can commence in a push
filter through soup bowls with moss in the undertow
you unleashed the lion in me
caged barbaric creatures having little eyes
the immense silence toward its bitter violence
dark deranged dungeon with pillars of vast exploits
feeble minded zombie mutant creatures come in search of blood
in the vast perpetual time between matter and space
we get a taste of vanquished ***** in bright yellow asps
the seal on the door that leads to the underground is locked
one needs to negate the notion of spineless agitation
why does one equate logic with fear
I shed a single tear to numb the inner pain
the warden of the dungeon calmly opened to lock
only to reveal vast shivers down one's spine
a time revealed with swords of armor on the influx of its residue
we climbed in further only to discover
a draw bridge that brought creatures in to infest there mind with evil dread
the cosmic collision of a puzzle made for the walking dead
viscous fangs dripping blood off side we run away to hide
only to get closer as never before to the underground
there in the center lies a barrage of infested rodents chewing on vile matter
with a barrage of waste that taunts the madness in my mind
for i have seen enough turning to the warden he locked the door once again
at night i slept but was awakened by a viscous noise coming from under my bed
a stir of emotions came rustling through my extremeties
I was naked and all alone then the silence dissapeared to the knock on my door
for it was the warden warning me that the creatures were once again loosed in the city
I was beside myself but I realized that these creatures hated water so I came with buckets
one by one I was able to lure the creatures back to the naggot infested dwelling
all was left was a zombie that I barely couldn't see
throughout the duration of time the warden reassured me that all was well
the remedy of this madness is to have water handy then everything would be gravy.
Mario William Vitale
Written by
Mario William Vitale  48/M/Wolcott, Ct
(48/M/Wolcott, Ct)   
132
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems