Cory The Alchemist


Faceless - Poem by Cory The Alchemist

They line up
Like Spartans
At Persian gates
The air is crisp
Icy fangs bite
Into their flesh
A flicker of light
Bodies tense
The doors open
An explosion
Of screams
The stampede begins
Two bodies fall
No thoughts of helping
Just a couple more bodies
They don’t have to
Dodge
The flashing lights
Glint off greedy eyes
The shelves become bare
The consumers
Run home
Plug in the new TV
Virtuosos with the cords
They turn on the first channel
A news report
Two people dead
Trampled by a mob
Their faces so clear
On the big screen.


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, December 3, 2009



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