HumanityBurning bricks, dyeing sun,
rotting flesh until there is none.
Dark crucifix on the wall,
damned souls creeping crawl.
Blood flowing river's deep,
virgin mother's endless weep.
Seeking eyes to a darkened sky,
prayers carried on a breathless sigh.
Laughter from an insane mind,
victims to suffer he will find.
Games of torture taking toll,
being merciless on a helpless soul.
These days of hell will come to be,
if we don't find the good we need.
Killing the serpent, living sin,
never sleep in the Devil's den.
Poetry by David W. Glavin
Read 163 times
Written on 2016-08-12 at 01:01
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email