Thursday, January 30, 2020

Symphony of the Master (a poem)

When he closes his eyes, the beast's face appears
The demonic smile and stare that leers
Unsure if he should slit his wrist or his lips
For tonight, regardless, it's a good night kiss

Time will do no service for the wicked of heart
The heroes of tales will now forever and always part
For those tales of salvation are all but a dream
And nothing you see is ever truly what it seems

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