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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Death's faithful dog (part 1)dots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Angeles
    Elite Ratio:    3.87 - 5/13/19
    Words: 393
    Class/Type: Poetry/Passion
    Total Views: 910
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2418



    Description:
       


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsDeath's faithful dog (part 1)dots
    -------------------------------------------


    I make my way through rain and fog
    The sea on a crimson moon is my soul
    drops of blood taint the foul earth
    In bog and alleyway my den
    Though never have I had a friend
    Motionless bodies lie cold among the fens
    Cruel mistress, buzz-kill queen of jeers
    Men offer you their chalice full of tears
    Drink deep and sup on poisonous guilt
    I put aside my foolish pride like jewels
    I travel through the wilderness wide
    And bear my pain to no-one but the breeze
    My master has a voice shrill
    His hand is round my collar saying
    You kill you kill you kill
    Is there anyone to take me in?

    I have taken up with a butcher
    blood on the floor mixed with saw-dust
    In the corner of the room I drink my milk
    The liver and hearts dangle over me
    like amethysts, though for evening meal
    I feast on visions of war,
    The boot in someone's stomache
    "Where are your guns you faggot?"
    I read the literature of pigs
    Where common sense clogs up the veins
    The man will burst like an animal
    And wash himself in the meat-clogged water
    So do I feel eating bread
    The butcher is slaughtering innocents
    His shark-fin parts the flesh like sea
    I make a hymn about myself going to sleep
    In the sunny filled shop stream people
    Are thirsty to buy my meat, half-asleep
    I serve them the refuse of their fellow creatures
    In brown paper, raw and bloody
    I will do this for a while it seems
    When there is no other place for me

    Sun flower storms
    Petals float
    In the sky like blood

    Oranges, and the television
    Sparks, the metal sears
    The phones have all died down

    As water would scald
    Light drips down from a golden cup
    My hate is a boat

    I take it through the empty harbour
    Where everyone is wide awake
    They have hidden all their cans of food
    And even lowlifes such as I
    Are aware that they have upped the stakes
    Sun God who puts the light out
    Now there are no phones to listen to
    You blotted out the man on the news
    Some will drown and float in the water
    Others will raise a glass to high heavan
    I





    Submitted on 2015-08-06 15:53:08     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      I suppose i'd rather be one of the others. supposing this, i already am.
    | Posted on 2015-08-10 00:00:00 | by cornonthekob | [ Reply to This ]


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