Who Is There - Poem by Joseph Walden
Is it a noose or is it my neck,
Stalking my shadow,
Scary I look,
Furious and tender,
The will I will enter.
Stepped on snails and strangled snakes,
Strong as slippery rock,
Peered down the curving horns,
Quest for question,
Razor sharp edges, riddles, and a wench,
Haunted and bloody,
Damn this frightening sound,
Damn this hell,
Are you mocking me?
Are you mocking you?
I lied down in the riverbed,
Held the rocks and played with the dead.
She awoke into night,
'Your wicked face,
Shamed is your soul,
Pierced are those devil eyes,
May you not swallow a thousand flies,
May you see only a thousand lies,
Please I beg of you.'
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