Monday 6 July 2015

A Dinner Reservation in Hell

Your memories fill the table..

Vegetables harvested from the soil of your battlegrounds
Fruit washed in the tears of your enemies
Meat glistening in the light of your fire
..an undeserving aroma laced in clouds of cigarette smoke

Holding my silver platter, I wonder..

Where do I begin?
Who are your guests?
Why do they stare?
How am I even here?

For now, O let me drink..

Pour your soul into my cup
As my cup runs over
I will drink it from the ground
'Til your blood is mine to beat

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