Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
303 · Apr 2020
Filling Mouths
Sid Bulan Apr 2020
Mirror, mirror, oh, horrors on the wall!
Shall we pinpoint the most noxious of them all?
The Orient's Pearl shed the vehemence of a breathing nightmare,
Where divided abundance were forced to fit the mouth by power.

Shall we pinpoint the most noxious of them all?
Those angels who led the whole domain to its fall,
Where divided abundance were forced to fit the mouth by power?
Or the spawns who crippled the only way out of hell's lower ladder.

Those angels who led the whole domain to its fall,
At the temple of their Lord, they kneeled and kissed his filthy sole.
Or the spawns who crippled the only way out of hell's lower ladder.
A dictator of what is enough and what is not for each other.

At the temple of their Lord, they kneeled and kissed his filthy sole.
To paint scarcity with the luxurious blood of their skinny soul.
A dictator of what is enough and what is not for each other.
The development of their lives mirrored the regression of their cower.

To paint scarcity with the luxurious blood of their skinny soul.
And erase the borderline between good and evil in hell's deepest hole.
The development of their lives mirrored the regression of their cower,
Without a cost of every soul, who survived but cannot live any further.

And erase the borderline between good and evil in hell's deepest hole.
After all, we're just people, who wanted a magical egress without a toll.
Without a cost of every soul, who survived but cannot live any further.
A down-spiralled glass where progression always got knocked over.

After all, we're just people, who wanted a magical egress without a toll.
But now, we're certain who is the most noxious and vicious of them all.
A down-spiralled glass where progression always got knocked over.
Hidden beneath its transparent cover is nothing but hell and its fiery fire.

But now, we're certain who is the most noxious and vicious of them all.
The Orient's Pearl shed the vehemence of a breathing nightmare.
Hidden beneath its transparent cover is nothing but hell and its fiery fire.
Mirror, mirror, oh, horrors on the wall!
A first shot at pantoum poetry for a little online writing competition. Didn't win anything but I got this as a takeaway so it's worth joining.

— The End —