Demonic Disposition
Each little percussion of your
Heart’s drum centers on
Perfection.
Apathy becomes a cold friend
On a dry day full of lethargic
Heat—sweat beads of undesired
Lust.
I am the apprentice—my master—
Spirits of unquenched probable
Addictions—demons of
Ignorance.
Fallen angel—I denounce you
Here and now.
____________________________
More of my works at alexfalls.com
Copyright © Ian D. Campbell | Year Posted 2010
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