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Jan 2014
The stench of death draws me close,
Overwhelming my senses,
Shrouding my eyes with a deep lust.
I pounce on the leftovers of discarded
By Death
And tear the bleak carcass
With my greedy claws.
A black splodge on the tapestry of nature,
A mirthless outlier, the king of dead.
A pillager, I reign the fallen towns,
I **** His Garden.
I liberate the frail from the shackles of life
And let harmony seep into his creations.
Without me his castle of cards
Will reduce to ash and dust
And scattered shards.
Blue
Written by
Blue
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