Inturnship

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's a poem about someone I met once. Kind of.

Submitted: July 01, 2014

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Submitted: July 01, 2014

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Is there no Good  in The Creature ,
Or Its thereabouts?
Its feelings in abundance,
Only in order that it learn 
(to better inflict)
Pain and wrath upon its Children,
And gain Return  for His Evil .

It is not you, Our Creatures -
I beg your forgiveness, 
Bird and Worm;
I wish not you to offend. 
Most splendid and beautiful 
Polychaete,
as you feast upon your carcass.
Neither do I, intend, 
you, Vulture, 
My friend,
To cause dismay nor
Malign your elegant plumage .

Monster, 
From whence you came, unclear.
Perhaps the Sea,
Thrown out by that hero of Mankind,
Grendel - perhaps his mother -
For your unbridled debauchery. 

You, the imperfect  product of
Three Numbers, the Same,
Root  to Twice Unlucky,
Of Three times Death.
You, the love child of Mephistopheles ,
And of MacBeth’s Unrest .

Let no World  know You.
Let no person sense You.
Let no Man  act because of You.
Let Your defeat be celebrated,
Across All Time and All Worlds.
Return You back to Galmi’s unshaped form.


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