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Poetry By: Philip Roberts
Literary fiction

Written during a moment of near-suicidal depress, eleven years ago.

Submitted:Feb 10, 2011    Reads: 30    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

Three energy vampires
Leeching the life out,
Of their son and brother
Leaving behind nothing,
But a dry, lifeless husk.

A vampire leech
Calling out from her bedroom,
Needing "loving" care so
Her poor son has no life,
Nothing but a slave.

Three evil hags conspire
Against their own flesh,
Reducing him to nothing
But mere chattel,
A slave to serve their needs.

Evil, lying harridans
Sob and wail for pity,
Sucking all the life from
The son and brother whom,
Has now become their slave.

Poor boy lives so lonely
No life or love of his own,
Forced to wait hand and foot
On three evil shrews,
Drawing off his life force.

Almost forty-three yet
He's had no life at all,
Forced to live in servitude
Waiting hand and foot,
On a wretched, evil crone.

"What does your life matter?"
Says his eldest sister,
"You agreed to sacrifice it,"
Insists the younger hag,
So his freedom ends.

Evil harpies fighting
Over the dried bones,
Of their son and brother
Whose body was their slave,
His life force sucked away.

© Copyright 2011
Philip Roberts,
Melbourne, Australia


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