The Bloated Deity

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  No Houses


Why are the alleyways always dark?

Submitted: February 22, 2017

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Submitted: February 22, 2017

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Where the lgihts flicker and the moon shines bright,

The marvel of the Metro fades in the pitch black twilight.

How strange, is it not? No shots are heard nor guns at play,

But strangely, there seems to be a new body everyday.

It rises, by the tens. It never ceases to stop.

It rises, in height. Bodies piled on top.

 

How did it get there? The horror that places itself within the stars.

They were warned time after time, that this blasphemy shall lead to war.

The great one has grown impatient, his hunger ne'er goes unsated

The chains are now grinding, this long he has waited

 

What we traded in, the days our thoughts run elated

We will pay the price, his hunger ne'er goes unsated.


© Copyright 2018 Issachar Bacang. All rights reserved.

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