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The Hollow Dreams of a Mad Poet

The Seventh Circle (the Blasphemers)


The lone wolf chews and eats his young
Too many roosters spoil the hen
There can be only one with a golden tongue

They bowed before me in all my glory
The lone wolf chews and eats his young
In Awe-were all who heard my story

I am your only begotten son
There can only be one with a golden tongue
Jesus was the deluded one

Stretched on burning sand: no more songs falsely sung
The joke was on me; I was the Dark Ones ill-gotten son
The lone wolf chews and eats his young
There can be only one with a golden tongue

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The Seventh Circle (the Murderers)

The jack-in-the-box pops
And the joker runs wild
Humanity’s insanity never stops
The jack-in-the-box pops
Streets littered with dead cops
A mother gives up her life for her child
The jack-in-the-box pops
And the joker runs wild

Boiling blood and homicidal bubbles
A cup of hate and a pinch of rage
Are the sources of manmade troubles
Boiling blood and homicidal bubbles
Add lust for power and madness doubles
Killers and glory hounds make a new dark age
Boiling blood and homicidal bubbles
A cup of hate and a pinch of rage

You maggots and worms stay submerged in the mud
Our acid tipped arrows will block your escape
The stink of your souls reeks of urine and blood
You maggots and worms stay submerged in the mud
Rain, hail and fire erupts in a thunderous flood
no more will you kill, maim, murder and rape
You maggots and worms stay submerged in the mud
Our acid tipped arrows will block your escape





The Seventh Circle (the Suicides)


In this winter of lost dreams
amongst the unborn and newly dead

-I still whisper your name-

~But only my echo returns~

Leaving my frozen desire
and tethered hope,
to remain buried within the ice

The chains that hold me and
rip into my flesh; were made by
your loving hands. To feel
them once again against my cheek
is all that I ask-even though your
touch, turns me to dust.

-I long for your embrace-

~Instead of this chill that eats at my bones~

wings scarred and broken
into the ice I sink
with your name forever
etched on my heart



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Comments

Well Maestro, this collection is everything I would expect from a Mad Poet... and a Poet God... Sharp, scathing, salacious, searing and stunning! These poems are full of utter contempt and ...disdain ...slicing open the soul of humanity and revealing the ugly nature thought to be hidden... I don't know if that was your intent... but that is how your scorching poems made me feel.. These words danced and jittered, whirled like a stoned banshee... Fabulous... Thanks for a cool read.. grasshopper
 
Honestly, I really love your skill, the imagery, the use of repetition, the flow, but the message isn't my cuppa. Still read through them several times, though. Both drawn to it and repelled by it, which is a comment I'm certain you can appreciate. Mad skills.
 

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rcallaci
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