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So Sense less they fall

Poetry By: Vashti Puls
Horror



A Dark Mistress plays on the stupidity of those in the human race who think it is they who control the prey


Submitted:Mar 29, 2013    Reads: 9    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   


what care i of spieling spellings of punctuation observations

of less is more-ons...

this game
the keys my dice
the knife
my life
slicing and piercing
my tender flesh
my breasts
my breath

i want you oh fool
you who have already leapt off
the ledge into other
worlds and spaces

you can not trace my finger prints here

echoing
romance
a corner stone
a head stone
stoned atoned overthrown
your reigns oh kings have been forgotten
the fires have burned
and even the tongueless ones though for-gotten
have spoken their terror
a million veils
unsheathed
bequeathed
in the laps not of luxury
but poverty
who were you to know
those veins that ran too deep
soaked through with the blood you shed
were treasure maps to other continents
and civilizations

realize this
i am a mistress
of my own darkness
my guarded light hidden beneath the sunken wells
of your hotels and luxury palaces
who would search for fire beneath
the floods of indignity
the shells of indecency
the infant screams
of those who have only known thirst without the quenching

there is no formation to these words
fallen soldiers are of lead
of plastic
pretend bullets are wracking these tents
that were never made for occupation
your job solidified their cries
from coffin to womb
unmaking their beds
with crisp clean sheets
to cover rotten corpses

........... we never know
where
we are
.................................????????????????//

Wecome to hell

My paradise dear

Vashti Puls





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