Macabre From The Outside (Her Day In Court)

Lost behind thoughtless, cold-steel columns
Abandoned by yesterday's door-mats
Left for others to decide how to condemn
Distant streets long for your return
Sated not was their taste of your spirit
Or the succulent hum of your screams

Dingy outposts filthy with blood-drained eyes
Sallow in their sweetness and purity
Shelves as medicine-beds to impatients
Moaning chaperons once at your side
Misery drenching their arid, canyon-pores
The echoes of fiends rediscover your ears

Coiling in a stained-yellow catacorner
Eyes portraying alternative death-plays
Shimmering syringe licks taut, pale flesh
Lips applaud in salivical thunder-claps
Dust-melded crypt-keeper jingles on in
Show-stopper at your feet in gooey green-grey

Fingers pinch your twist-tie arm and pull
You follow on the streams of liquid legs
Putty skin is molded into attentiveness
Gavel crash escorts you back to reality
You awake in ice in blood in sweat
Found behind thoughtless, cold-steel columns

Go on to Words Lost

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