There's a nemesis on the premises

watching through the crevices of my hellishness

watching the precious homage paid to my delicate testaments of corruption and bitterness

yet to know observation is venomous if hesitant

the evidence is irrelevant while you wait on a settlement of peace from a benevolent king

back stabbing sentiments have no precedence over the decaying elements of my eloquence

not one finger can touch the decadence of my mental inhabitants

with whispers of shadows within their em-battlements

some go celibate from the spiritual experiments

in villainous line scrimages

consumed

with images of pillaged villages

baffled

in the battle to dismantle the soul scandals

manhandling rambles through foolish gambles

we each blow out our own candles

Left for dead

Strangled