Brusquely from a corner reality strikes
Gnawing a cavernous hole deep into
Our sacred nebulas of taintless sanctity
Silently a stream of tears cascade
Straight down the trestle of our noses
Plummeting upon the quay of sorrow
Not shedding a single ounce of mercy
We were never ready for the cataclysm
For fear consumed us within its deathly clasp
Evoking a raging war of impending doom
There has always been a thin line drawn
Between the dawning rancor of reality
And the cruel hands of humane society
Day by day the razor's edge of death
Slices directly to the core of our veins
Leaving the blood to bathe the streets
Of blatant necrophilia and ruthless carnage
© Copyright 2018 Poet Sex God. All rights reserved.
Booksie Popular Content
-
Shelves: 48
-
Shelves: 20
-
Shelves: 15
-
Shelves: 20
-
Shelves: 19
-
Shelves: 14
Other Content by Poet Sex God
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
Thomas Mind