Blood In The Ground

 
 
 
 
Perhaps poetry is dying 
beneath this stagnated air
perhaps we’re all tangled
 in this wave of fate
 
Tears of blood
smeared in purple hues
bruised and betrayed
by friends and poe
 
Skinned and hung
dark side of the moon
where gloom oversteps
blooming death next door
 
Even scarecrows hide 
appalled by the night
and carnivores tongues
lap unfaithful light
 
Pious and hypocrites
knee sunk in muck
mocking the Word
Vein’d of true blood
 
Vigilant rains pound
cold clayed-Ground
demanding for seeds
planted in our hearts.