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Ryan James Webb Apr 2014
Exhume the bodies of your past lives,
Consume their essence for your nourishment.
Their knowledge, another state of mind,
Shall be reincarnated through you.
Ryan James Webb Apr 2014
A violent perfume is excreted from a rubber balloon.
The odor lounges, disturbing victims near and far.
Ryan James Webb Apr 2014
A bleached-snow vortexes my way.
A blemished goddess taunts its presence;
Her scoffing words dealt little damage for she resides in the storm;
Her sluggish enclosure resumes course.
Blinded by a flurry of misconception,
Her face has lost an ornament- and she reaches into the storm.
Ryan James Webb Apr 2014
Licking sweat- salty human essence.
Stinging; the drought consumes the lips,
The tongue, the throat.

The mind is invigorated by the burn.
Saliva coat consumed by the elements-
Grain sand, now salt.
Ryan James Webb Apr 2014
Doors--run through the doors.
The shape of age is not
Hate--the great escape,
So strange, the mouth will gape.

Walls--they hold you in;
Your face will age and rot.
Shame--the bed you've made,
So vague, the sand parade.

Cursed--you all are cursed
To stay within these walls.
Pain--a mindless state,
They made the jacket straight.

Take the time--commit the crime;
Unaware of precautions they will take.
Above the jail--the sirens wail,
Casting a shadow on all those who lie awake.

— The End —