Featured art by L.H. Grey
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Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross “A Familiar Taste”
Is it just me
who can see
the cold steel
approaching
Glinting.
Hinting.
And very soon to be encroaching
Have I invited its ice into my spire
Doth my protest herein request
Am I glass to see right through
Falsified by eyes of truth
Must this knife party commence
Where’s the sense
Is it too late to repent
Can’t I play the moot observer
Insubstantial
No choice but concede
Must I bleed
All signs seem to point to
Indeed.
Fissure forming
Diamond slicing
Not once or twice but thrice in.
Enticing the scarlet sap to reveal
Persuasive is this steel
One clean motion
Slides in deeper
Such devotion
hath this Reaper
Beat the last my windswept heart
Rampart breached
Overreached
Inner Sanctum
Now – Besieged.
Bleeding in.
Bleeding out.
Thumb to rule.
Glass half full.
A deluge of ripest rouge
Glugging
Chugging train of steaming pain
Bereft of gain
Must abstain
Slain.
Bittersweet release
Sword now sheathed
Fate bequeathed
Valve released
Jets unleashed
Comes the gusher
Everything must go
Everything.
Glass.
Now.
Empty.
…
Raise a toast
Swill.
Savor.
Refill.
Richard Charles Stevens
Keeper of The Crimson Quill
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I truly feel this piece having had multiple surgeries from neurosurgery to equinous deformity (my version of head to toe)
I cannot tell you how thrilled I was to see you pop in my comments box my dear friend. Here every word is immortalized and I adore that.
You see us most clearly. Always have. Always will. True to the very core of your being.