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Armistead Lindsey Chain Poem Chelley Rice "Punk Poet" Gwen Zain Lee Todd Lacks Prunella Nadler Rebel Jones Ruth Doyle Tracy Shults-Wright

Of an Afternoon

Collaboratively Written By: Ruth Doyle, Armistead Lindsey, Prunella Nadler, Rebel Jones, Chelley Rice, Tracy Shults-Wright, Gwen Zain, & Lee Todd Lacks

It was then, this afternoon
That I thought I saw the moon
Boldly staring down at me
But it was time for a cuppa tea
Made from my own herbal mix that gets you thinking deeper than the sea.
But after drinking it I felt really bad
I got caught up pondering about the twisted and mad
Then I thought afterwards maybe twas my pill
The one I picked up off the window sill...
was going in my mouth
And from that point dizziness made this experience go south...
well no more of them for me
Poison was creeping from your guts
The guts!
The blood and the glory! The pictures spun my twisted mind and warped this forlorn story.
Prayer will not save sic wilted souls...
And I wasn't prepared for what followed...
Blood kiss please release me from here...
And when you do I shall release these bloody tears...
And I will falter my faith in man's Holy God...
Ball up this debasement and shoot it back in a wad.
Humans are nothing, but flesh that's flawed...
and one’s essence grows ere weary through this carnage to trod.

But our souls have been put up to be bought...
So lay it down!
This sacrifice...
Or are you far too good to have to do it twice?!
No I'm immortal & will make my move thrice...
Times six more to make it a mark known as beast among the most wicked feast to be consumed by those whom presume they are above most, they think they are elite.
Wilted souls press it between tattered pages
From the pits of hell my blistering rages
Unto their altar, it’s foundations to lurch.
Cracking and and groaning- nought found tho’ they search.
For they are beyond redemption
Souls from from flesh ripped far and wide, sent into the darkness, no more light in the eyes.
For they are going in all their glory
With a full measure of the guts, plus then,
Yet again -
So many times more.
Overfloweth,
Like the cup
That waits, ere expectant
Just outside your door.
for it is the door to hell
Of that you can be sure
Welcome to the party, Princess!
So sorry about the stain.
Dont worry at all about it
Im getting on the train
Your fate, you see...
Herein awaits.
Your guests, of course, are all those of like stripe and it’s harvest time, my sweet...
Before you grow too over-ripe.
for over ripe you be
For all infinity
And the moon continues to just smile back at me
Now I wait for destiny
Are on the way to hells own holes
while my vision grows beyond my sight
But really worried about my plight

© All poetic works displayed on this website are copyright of the original author. All rights reserved.

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