Saturday, March 17, 2018

Infidel Savior (Day 423)


Poverty givers rise cavorting clambering over masses who collapse and fall scythes whipping through spring blossoms like sharp beaks strip off soft bark exposing insects hiding underneath 


Their highest blunders oozes siren words poison to disparate pens unsheaths and sinks his fleet sword’s blade in to the hilt and twists like death on a swinging rope lips curled in a vulpine sneer

Infidel savior poverty giver tilting his resilient hate at guiltless guileless dreamers unaware of his voracious plague growing fierce on their unspoken fears and silent sleepless nights 

That brilliant terror festers under victims’ thin-stretched skin while his beknighted demons stroke and savor fevered brows drooling for a payoff drunk on inbound self-branded hell


(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: PxHere