Priest
The darkness of peoples faces,
As I flow through the cloud of people,
And ashes.
Dark metal machines express depression,
Black clouds cover the sky,
Making the sun shy,
Never leave the city,
Or go against the gods.
There is evil in the dust,
The wasteland of death and sorrow,
Creatures reside in the wasteland,
Never seeing,
Never seeing light.
They hear with their stomachs,
They feed off your fears.
I, the priest, will conquer,
Their appetite for blood.
The vampire menace is here.
Copyright © Joseph Schaffer | Year Posted 2013
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