Their Temporal MoonA Poem by MaceK6A zombie infant serial killer... not much else to say :)The moon conquered the sun that day, as dreadful darkness came And the wind surrendered its songs to silence, for screams were his to claim Then with a sudden spell the moon's aura fell, dim and pale with shame For it saw his approach invading life, its nemesis smites another flame A brilliant disciple he was, yet to them a rabid freak Who begrudged life and named death a heaven that all should seek But of course, who would listen to believe a creed so bleak That led him to his ruin, with blood pouring from a neck-round creek Unavenged, he was the wisest - or most insane as they would see The dead's philosophy becomes the reason behind catastrophe The earth shivered as his sarcophagus cracked to set him free An abomination disguised, yet one stare did make them flee His face degraded to a blackened skull and with eyes hollow he stared Involuntarily towards the moonlit starless sky despite a slit throat that glared With stained blood, drenched on skinned ribs that gasped for air Exposing a rotten heart pumping slime out of every wound to paint the earth So mucus traced his footsteps that followed rattles of fragile bones As he left the town of the dead, gracefully skipping lifeless stones And often he stumbled on intestinal ropes dropping stomach chyme for crows That accommodated his presence flying along whenever his plagued wind blows Undead, his pace was slow yet his hand was swift With a thirsty sickle between fingers from which blood dripped Pure blood, that is, of those who never began to drift Away from innocence and towards their eternal crypts He came to their window, and stared at that smiling babe Making this night's decision, the victim of his round blade So they sang the boy his final lullaby as he closed his eyes of jade And left him in his cradle, soon to be his grave © 2010 MaceK6Author's Note
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StatsAuthorMaceK6Toronto, Scarborough, CanadaAboutWell, I'm a 17 year old Muslim kid who LOVES Metal music- so you can see the paradox I live through. I'm open minded, and I don't often follow anyone, but make my own philosophies which I like to writ.. more..Writing
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