The venom in my words is acid

as I look at the lake, so placid

I gander at the bodies floating,

their rotting corpses decomposing,

synergy of death and life,

their faces contorted,

expressions of strife,

Their dead eyes meet mine in search of a blessing

like that of which I could care less of caressing

-

although I hear them clear as day,

their ears are deaf to what I say

It truly is a pitiful shame,

those who Azrael never did claim.

only they know what they’ve done,

their mouths are stitched, they’ll tell no one.

as they rot, their minds will burn,

silently screaming what they most yearn.

-

Though on the minds of some, they creep,

Their lamenting screams lull me to sleep.

and as I drift off, my words are acid,

as I smile and gaze upon the dead lake,

So Placid.