Blight

I can feel each jagged tooth

Sinking slowly in

A warmth that gushes, pools, and drips

And sates the hellish din

 

One thousand voices form its voice

And shriek each sound it makes

And I suppose I am the next

cacophony it takes

 

Its skin so taught against the bone

‘Tis a marvel in its movement

‘Twas at this moment death and daring

Formed something congruent

 

The sword that wore one thousand points

Thrust deeply in its gut

I ripped and tore and bathed in it

Until its eyes were shut

 

So there we lay encompassed by

My final quest toward night

A blasphemy, a hero

And her thousand pointed blight

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