May 24, 2020


by Douglas Blaine Matthews (author's profile)



I waited for justice...
For the moment that I would fly free,
When not the brim but the cobble would carry my tread.
I was wrong
For I am now here where I have been for some time and
Now my sacrifice may fail to the ax.
In a system where each limb cries out for death,
Where the reeking carrion is not enough for them to sleep upon...
...So they murder
The roads they travel have demons beneath them
Soliciting mad references for hell.
Professing from my coin as I waste away when I am not
even sick.
I am captive, held tightly be other toxic tentacles,
Forced into a torrential sleep.
But it isn't the dawn that peers in from beneath
the steel.
It is the misery, sorrow and pain.
A place where even hope rarely survives.
So I dream...
But whoever sends them, to my dismay, they will end with sacrifice
A sullied river, this is, winding through time.
And it's all I can do to hold my head above this corpse littered
To keep from drowning on the fermented flesh of my peers.
How I long for the better taste of lead to comfort me in the
Arms of sleep's sister.

[signature] #V29877


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