Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2017
of do a lord hath laid an egg
and deeds have gathered up in tombs
seeking rewards and justifications
only leaves the lord listening

to
gnawing teeth of bugs of
blowfly
drawn by rotting flesh
and gases to pupal teeth

young maggot feasting on

a darkening wood moving
thresh;
hereΒ 

remains his last words
left without
a bit of sense
wordvango
Written by
wordvango
Please log in to view and add comments on poems