It Isn'T Arcadia But It's Darker Than Hell

This is where death is the child and I it's Laborious hand holder Jagged night, lean souls blackened sight in the martyr moon crooning crows and brazen ravens tear the skies through Crooked grins and demon walkers make the evil hallow and the meek surrender Beads of fear saunter a stream's pace down my tired countenance The weary die. Her voice bleeds a susurrus... "Doth thou arrest my poison...my heart...my love" I only reply true "May I arrest the blade of my weary foe before I arrest thy poison kiss" There is a place where the mad prophets speak Where god speaks confused tongue Where Babylon is anew This is where death is the child and I it's laborious Hand-Holder -Kalonji A. Davis 2/18/2010