everybody's going to hell

true enough

there's a man, or something man-shaped,

imposed in silhouette

against the crimson horizon.

arms splayed in a crucifix position.

black birds nest on his fingertips

beneath a tattered grey shirt

an exposed ribcage bleeding fresh maggots

to the dry dust at his toes.

a passing wolf tears off

one more mouthful of flesh

day by day

the wind and the beasts of the field

cleave flesh from bone

until a lonely skeleton stands

with his back to the moon.

a beating heart

locked up

forever bleeding.

Reviews

[Silent Kim aka mizmetap..]

Interesting write, at first I saw only the goriness of it, in second reading I saw it metophoricly, man being devoured by vultures, constanty torn aprt, if not in his choosen profession or from those around him, or the bill collectors, some one is always gnawing at him, leaving only a locked and bleeding heart. I don't know I may be wrong in my interpentation in any case, the poem has stregthen.

Thanks for entering my contest and good luck to you.

[Ray Hamilton]

A very grim vivid image dark but nice write
I like dark from time to time, I enjoyed this one
Ray { Not a Poet }

[Dandy Jon Powder]

Love this!!! very very nice!

[Treasaigh (The Solitar..]

What a write!..^.^.. Your imagery is fantastic=) I don't know why but this made me think of Jeepers Creepers and Dawn of the Dead, lol.