The Apothecary Poem by athena bell

Watch the white wheels turn, as the silent waiters
Keep the cat bites on her cold skin covered.
The girl has been given a destiny, gone
Like the light that lifted the sun’s rays onto
Her hair, reflected off the honed fly’s wings.
The man muscled his muzzled lips to hers,
Shocking her panicked pulse into an upset.
Fainting away her fate, her fermented dream
Ended. Existentialism: Expiation
Was her ‘now’. Quantify the quarrels caused
By the poisons ingested in her system,
And be beguiled by her passive persecution.
Needing to renounce her recognized faith.
Destroying herself, determined to disable
The monster that is inside. Subway to the
ultimate ultimatum.
A church is chosen
As a meeting place to mourn
The death of an apothecary
Stolen by the storm.