Scarlet and Silver

Nothing special. Just short and nice.

Heavy and gnashing.

The synthetic beast burrows

Crimson and scarlet fly skyward

It cares not for bellows

Only for its pound of flesh

Brick and mortar; infestation and pus.

They bring rope for the writhing

They bring healing through penance

Criss-crossing thread through the wound

Sealed within is the promise of more strife

Silver, old and faded.

Tended to and treated

Like the lips of a drunken lover

They are puckered and full

Memories of pain and plight fill them

A bitter reward for those who bare them

Author's Note

I don't care dude. You like it, cool. If you don't, cool.