Of Killer and Carnage


She stretches out a hand
Looking to feel forever
In the gentle brush of fingertips
Against decaying skin.

She finds beauty in carnage,
In ruined corpses.
In violent displays.
In dividing the body against itself.

Ever hungry,
Ever feeding,
But never satisfied.

She weeps in prayer,
Pleading to any inclined divine ear,
For this time to be the last time,
For it to finally be enough.

Yet every snuffed out life,
Every desperately pleading last word,
Each dying light
Winking out behind frightened eyes,
Is never enough.
It’s never enough.

About St Basil Z Fish

Curator of the strange and incredibly awkward. A rambling writer with the misguided notion he has something to say. His only redeeming qualities are his wife and children.
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2 Responses to Of Killer and Carnage

  1. AATIF says:

    very impressive blog

    Liked by 1 person

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