Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 1
The venom
Of
Scorpion,
Pierces through
My flesh
And,
Stings.

I am compelled
To
Dance in a mad
Scramble,
As the poison.

Takes hold.

My ego is about
To die.

Tripping on some divine
Archetype,
Of change-
Transformation,
Tinged with the death
Of self.
Nolan Bucsis
Written by
Nolan Bucsis  41/M/Somewhere in Canada
(41/M/Somewhere in Canada)   
47
   Jimmy silker
Please log in to view and add comments on poems