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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