The Devil’s Gift

I cannot pluck your eyes.
I cannot tear your tongue.
I cannot rip out,
hold before your dying eyes
bleeding heart
talons curling inward
piercing
anguished cries rise.
Cruel sneer
warps my lips.
Beseeching
you look upwards
(forgiveness?)
Crumpling slowly
knees giving way
blood spools from your pain…..
Only things that I can imagine
or so I thought until last night;
The Devil did come
and unto me he whispered those longed for words:
come with me
see the rot
watch the pustules erupt
boiling tar
sins of the father
never again visited upon the daughter.
To Be Continued…..
©Sept. 19/22
Picture via Pinterest: Uploaded by Sydney Hansard

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