Diablo's Mine

Deathly caverns, deep, dark and cold,
home to many a forgotten, lost soul.
Blood soaked ax strikes against screaming wall,
back bent, broken, almost a saddened crawl.
Sweat creeps down the beat and weary brow,
mind empty, thoughts lost, no longer proud.
Damned things come that creep and crawl,
slithering up cracked spine, bent neck and all.
Forever condemned to live this endless night,
soul bound to what was wrong, not right.
Choice was given at many a point and time,
wrong ones made, now living in Diablo's mine.



Poetry by David W. Glavin
Read 1057 times
Written on 2016-08-30 at 00:54

Tags Dark  Life  Spiritual 

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Kathy Lockhart
A very dark, yet vivid piece, filled with powerful images. The title, alone, is chilling and draws the reader in. This mine belonging to Satan is holding those plagued with the sin of pride* or hubris which is one of the 7 deadly sins.

*As you've indicated in line 6 "mind empty, thoughts lost, no longer proud."

applause!
2016-09-09