
The Blood Countess: Solemn WoesHung at the hands of the epitome of scum, dangling above an exquisitely crafted porcelain tub, swaysThe Blood Countess: Solemn Woes1 day ago in Concrete Poetry
Back and forth the corpse which was yet a half-dead beaten soul, as the blood traces down and beats
With the insanity of the heart, it races with the volume of enjoined screeches vibrating through the
Walls, sent to a place which would lead to life, but would bring about such swelled undoing, as to be
Punishment laughed and sheered even more with the edges of penetrating wrenches, as the red drains
Down like the compliance of fire, yet to look down without a care for she was no more to be beautiful,
For she was forced down upon the blood

Broken DreamsUnder the grotesque and twisted gnarled treeBroken Dreams5 hours ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
she waits for the oh-so innocent eyes to appear
out of the dark his hands reach,
holding a glass heart,
but he lets go
lets it fall
to to the dry pavement,
where liquid memories are lost
they run into the cracks of the sidewalk,
and he walks away,
a translucent dream of what could've been,
and should've been
a childhood
under a dark sky,
the little girl cries,
staring up into the sky
at a red balloon
she reaches for it,
grabs the string,
and floats off into the mist.

The Children"The Children"The Children21 hours ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Malicious, Menacing, Silent
I can feel it's trueness in the wind.
The eyes of truth besiege my soul.
As God prepares to lay down his fury,
As the Earth pry's itself lose from the universe
And the children hold hands,
They weep and they pray,
Praying for hope
Praying for salvation,
Praying for it to be over,
Praying for the angel’s help,
Blessed be the poor.
. ..Cynthia