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Image for the poem Wretched

Wretched

Your mica eyes
Thrust their sinister gaze--
Grim and glowering--
Gouging into gaping heart-wounds
To commence continuous fresh ooze,
Dripping from festering unhealed cores.

Your darkened desires
Derive insidious pleasures...
You watch the writhing and wasting--
The squirming of my weakening spirit,
Gazing at the gruesome handi-work
Of your impaled butterfly.

The brilliant brevity
Of my soul's prismatic patterns,
Exsanguinates in frantic futile beatings
With shredded ineffectual wings.

Faint flutterings fade
Within toxic memories,
And anguish appeases from silent screams
To inevitable numbing...

                     (Release me--
                      p l e a s e--
                      I need to soar.)
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