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Four of Spades

Come rot with me
The philosophy
of atrocity

You smite the children to make the mother bleed
Down on her knees
Won't hear her pleas
Merciful fate
Where do I heed
While you splinter your creed
Marked trilogy
You seal their essence in virginity
You spared your seed
Sophistic mimicry
Paled and rest
Arms crossed
Tense chest
You killed yourself to avoid arrest
You left the family with a mess
Redress the tailor, morrow less

In the church, their spirits met
Combine the mourners
Hallow set
Seats row on row
Pine on mesh
Weak in the knees
Their tears are fresh
Secure life's promise
In a cleansing prayer
Centre them darlin', fill the air
With melodic honour
With echo and hum
Never forgetting their presence
Or where they came from

Jealousy,
The hell I see
Unrequited love; lay waste to Autumn's past
Author's Note
For Funeral: the last rights competition
This poem is about a jilted lover that killed his girlfriend and her three children in our small town many years ago.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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