Wibble TheFisch Poems
slits so small and tender each day a little bigger adorning my wrists and thighs bracelets hide from discriminating eyes
The Tattered Remains
the tattered remains lie in the trenches
The Great Sleep
the great sleep has decended. the night's chill is the only comfort.
she has been perfected. nothing shall engross her more,
the aborted little creature lies writhing and scrying.
A Fire Inside
(explanation: i wrote this for part of some contest. yeah it's lame. i know) within the abysmal plain, my soul turns to a flame.
she has been perfected.
nothing shall engross her more,
nothing to plague anymore,
nothing at all.
life was spent perfected.
the ins and outs perfectly regulated.
the lascivious of her ways tore the man's heart.
yet it still beats while her's is as cold as winter.