A Song For The Worms
Longer still they tear at my fetid heart
by Derek R. Audette
with minds that suffer like a dew draped leaf,
and through grand halls lined with bitter demur
my ersatz body is slowly produced.
In this garden of ubiquitous pain
they bear witness to this decrepit act.
I am no longer a child of the earth,
but a beast of famine who hungers not.
A vile and loathsome sow I have become,
a hellish fiend drenched in disquietude.
I have become a grim, pernicious blight,
an icon of well deserved abhorrence.
Yet upon my head sits a shining crown,
for now am I also, desolation.
Copyright (C) MMIV (2004)