18+ A shorter poem about calling death to my side after a life of pain and torment |
-Every Darkness- by Keaton Foster ** Image ID #1928508 Unavailable ** There So clear A wolf Every darkness Death The end Mine Not yours I called him He came Thus arriving It’s time My culmination Clear Precise His grip Will hurt less Than living His fangs Instruments of death Tattered tools Of dismemberment His coat Shapeless His eyes Relentless His soul Non existent He is here to kill I’m here to die I’ll fill his gut For a brief time Soothing the ache Not an ounce Will he dare waste As soon as he’s done He’ll move on I will not The game Dangerous I’ve played And I’ve lost Never Was I meant to win Trying was And has always been My one true sin God Won’t forgive The devil Won’t embrace Darkness Is all that awaits In his gut Then his bowls Putrid meat Rancid flesh Digested By his only need To again be fed He can stomach Anything And everything Made disgusting He will move on Finding another Those of us few Ready to face Our doom In the end I’ll be nothing more Than excrement A stain upon the ground A heaping mound The smell will fade Ultimately Such a waste Will be washed away Cleaned This world In closing Will be free The wolf That I called The one so near Will move on Far away He’ll feel no shame For he is all beast All creature He is Every darkness In a world Devoid of light He is freedom Summoned At one hell of a price… Every Darkness Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014. |