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The Devil's Propriety
a nervous, trembling growl,
of disgust and hunger,
thickens in the throat,
as a last breath,
and slithers it's way out and into,
night air tainted with,
moon-saturated fog,
where dancing devils parade,
themselves around a fire,
in the midst of the drought.
a scathing taunt at God for lack of rain,
when they themselves parch,
the earth with lusts and desires;
orgies of harvest,
stealing and raping fertile soil
for corrupt intentions-
where the growls and
footsteps of life die.

By southernblood

© 2008 southernblood (All rights reserved)


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