Running to Sorrows Call

An infinity of thoughts
My unearthly hell!
Below enough eidolons,
we will wordlessly scream!
Some decay.
Let us spoil of copius misery and silence.
Let bloodshed dissolve to finality
among deaths so pointless.

A tattered razor consumes My Heart
Pitiful verse rips open prior to poetry of soul
A broken winged raven drowns My spirit and death may die
Our vengeful knife shudders at souls last breath.

Madness despairs owing to this innocent Hatred and grim present
I torment the tempters phosphorous soul wounds.
And Listen to Neptune’s sorrowed distant call.

Ian V. Seymour © 2011

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