BURN…

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By Tom H. Brooks 3

 

Ahhh, my ink pen,
yes,
a fiery specimen
from the sinister brimstone
of the dark kingdom of Hades,
the Underworld
where gloomy
wailing souls
dwell
in gloomier shadows.
I run, I run
with demons and gorgons
through the vast
burning fields
of the Abyss-
behold
the carnage laid waste
behind us
before us
everywhere,
the impossibly foul stench
of deadened souls.
Run with the hunted
I say,
hell-doomed creatures
scatter from us in terror-
and we run from ourselves,
from what we have become.
In desperate agony and ecstasy,
we tear them limb from limb
and
soul from soul
and
drink their doomed
polluted and stinking
blood;
blood corrupted by ignorance
and idiocy-
oh, the folly of the human race,
Yes, I remember…
the brainless actions
the hopeless seeking
the senseless destruction
and wasting away
piled there
in the catacombs of history…
dried up old pages
of emptiness and despair,
loss and death,
crumbling into dust,
lessons never learned
despite all this sadness-
sickening! disgusting!
These frail and mortal
angry
little
people,
these “humans”
living their tiny
anonymous lives
filled with shame.
So I tore at these
soul corpses
with fangs and claws,
tearing
ripping
rending
mutilating
the putrid flesh
that was once
a false vision
of a happy life of
sunshine and puppies
fuzzy kittens
picnics in the park
children
bombs
and dead priests
and rivers
rivers of blood
oceans of blood…
drown fools,
drown in your own blood.
I gulped,
I drank deeply,
I saw the face,
what it once was,
it was my own-
I BURNED…..

 

THB3

 

 

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