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Apr 2019
Behind dropped curtains roads lay
where automobiles ride
and day and night they pass by,
but a blind man I am,
sound only pierces through
into a graveyard
grey fills my room.

I crawl alone between
the guts that spawned me once
what wondrous sights twist
turn behind          lungs hollow
screech and swallow fingernails
burst
open chests, crimson lakes flow
heads follow, rolling on train rails
small creatures, critters, in litter jitter,
buzzing in my ears-
what's this? The sudden plague appears,
Rats! **** them as they near. I yell:
'Oh mother, please, push me through the womb! - succumbed, I numb my senses.

Many men came to this land to test the faith that guides their hand,
their holy father stands high above
straps our merry troupe onto wood chairs.
Three days and nights, yet still they stand
fluids mix under their seats - the smell of sweet release and a finale closes
flies flock outwards all eyes above.

Drums beat again, retreat - absurd.
War roars, clashing steel and swords.
On top - the mountain cries, run, run
it warns, run red - ground to dirt;
amidst the battlefield
a mouse -
hidden with the dead, observe.
He raises            cautiously           slowly
'Halt!'
'Where are you headed rat?'.
Chased on the rocks, no way, no saviour awaits.
A sting then hit - the stink of **** but faded, persuaded by horrific dread..
it picked a rock and smashed his chasers'
head.
Rattle, rattle little bones, pieces of mind cover the boulder, one by one drop-
drip on the shocked grimace.

Menacing nether realms corrupt
bend, curve physical matter
through all the pain, disguist and guts
shattered be the particles, atoms
left inside a whole black cylinder
to be transported in another universe as dust.

Worried blinking disrupts the dream,
smell of lavender flows in gust
yet still I am
strapped,
in this greyish land
awaiting tempting doom.
IPM
Written by
IPM  21/M
(21/M)   
164
 
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