I was deathly in my manhood, when suddenly a soul
Danced in my head, fierce as a lion, wicked as a sorcerer,
Full of venom seething from the pangs of evil.
I was a very deathly man when my flesh no longer stared,
It shrivelled and I died with negative energy, no longer
Afraid of the silence surrounding me.
I am really dead, faults of mine collected every day,
The God will judge at the end of time, at the end of friendship.
He will subjugate me, the fires will swing to the eyes
And ears, like a chasm of a blasted furnace.
Friday, June 22, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: death