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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #1802472
Dark horror
The tides have come and gone. Widowing trees crying through the Torment and unpreserved life. Burning crimes of the innocent. Blood red waters flourishing thy fruit. For thy lie in the dirt grave. Bleeding from crusted scars. The world has gone dark. Moans of tortured souls ringing in my ears. Blood is but only a disease. The life essence is being sucked out of me. Nails, being hammered into my wrists and feet. Blood is gushing down my face. For I am hanging upside on a tree. And for this. I thank thee. My blood is flowing in the rivers. For this is where we all come to one. Now to come to a tree. The redness of the blood becomes thick and flourishes the fruit on the tree. For those who eat the fruit gain nothing but death. So many try to reach the fruit but failed. And are drowned in the river of blood. For I feel pleased to be apart of this great river. The river is where new life comes from. From the blood of others.
© Copyright 2011 Daniel Webster (zzdirft at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1802472