Left for vulturesA Poem by Phillip J ClaytonIn a place, a place as dark as this, a place where nightmares live, reality is blurred...
A name is echoed, what's in a name? Fear... A legend trapped in time, a moment forgotten. Breath of fire, glares of ice, sounds of torture - time has no end, words left stain the walls.
Justice is a drunken fool, The high priestess f***s the hierophant, her scarlet panties soaked in his stink.
Jackals give birth - may mercy find us well. A bride waits for a groom that will never come - feed the spiders, the devil dances with the moon.
Carrions tear at existence, pity...it was already flawed. In her right hand she alone holds the key, it was never about how it began, it was always how it ends. © 2011 Phillip J Clayton |
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Added on May 26, 2011 Last Updated on May 26, 2011 AuthorPhillip J ClaytonJamaicaAboutIn the professional space, I am almost a diety... I say that with the greatest of humility. In my personal life I am frail and a primitive man... Self-actualization is not all it's cracked up to be. .. more..Writing
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