I am a killer by default
A mercenary by the act of my birth
The screaming child of sunrise
I am the feather which hangs on my conscience
All my dreams are cut from the gibbet
Have their sacrament in a bullets abuse
Every edict I so viciously cling to
Wrought from the blood of the innocent
And I am ravenous
The coy demure plague, which infests your streets
With “not my concern” blindness; has its comfort
From the leaking pits and scars
Which festoon and feed my every plastic desire and envy
I am the multitudinous plethora of the guiltless
The boot polish of acceptance
In which my armies tromp in silence
To the rhythm of all their electric passions
And I am ravenous
It is my faceless dissension
The hollow megaphone of all my opinions
To stand amongst the clean and be unwashed
Of blame
I am the fractured mirror of the anonymous
A pseudo name by animal of unseen tearing flesh
That does not equate or count one single ounce of my heart
To another
Every advert of shining enraptured epitomising
All that I long for in chemical highs
And accoutrements of white painted pristine poise
Promise of function and intention; I am of use
Grant this vacant and vacuous reality with something
On which to hang
Such a tenuous belief
In the filth and mockery of my slavery
And I am ravenous
I am a killer by default
A mercenary by the act of my birth
The screaming child of sunrise
I am the feather which hangs on my conscience
Starving
Desperate in my need for consuming
Anything
Which will give me a meaning
Purpose to
A point
Explain this
Living
During my reading of this poem I felt ecstatic. Its fiery, intense and capricious essence lights in me the
adrenaline that makes me feel as though I could do absolutely everything. "Plague culture" is an intriguing title and it works like a charm on the header of this poem. Excellent!
Submission Name: Plague Culture
