Thursday, May 23, 2013

Black Soul Afidavit

Death on the surface of a plague,
Spewing serum in rabid abdication,

A perjurers first instinct
To rot upon that vial,
Thunderously bellowing for absolutions he devoutly hates

Finding bonds with decrepit fellowships
A putty for a craftsman with distinctly darkened vines

Cradling close the dearly fallen,
An appetite whets upon in blackened anticipation

And as a feast of blood sates his wicked tongue
The beast acknowledges the impossibility of nourishment
As fatal pangs asphyxiate the morsels just devoured
The cravings emulsify within
Delineating the unrequited compensation
Delivered to those who discard the graces bestowed when choice was still free.

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