| |
Like a blight of black flies
darkness had consumed my world.
A thousand mouths chewed my flesh
as they buzzed my every thought
with the pleasures
of a loaded Thirty-eight
and a liter of Imported Gin.
A permanent release from pain
was so simple,
point and
pull the trigger.
Alas, my brother
it will be an end to your anguished life
and the beginning of your eternal Hell,
for Hell offers no such escape.
said the Man in the shroud,
as he offered me another drink.
©2007 tedgsheridan
Ted Sheridan
|
|
User Rating: |
|
9.5
/10
(2 votes) |
|
|
|
E-mail this poem to e friend