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Poem

It smells like rusted metal
That no longer keeps the boat afloat
On a river infested with dead fish
Whose rancid scent clogs your nose

It sounds like the galling squawk of crows
Plundering the spacious corn field
Their proud squeal resonating in a sketchy land
Your ears left to create their own hush

It lives in a murky well with muddy walls
With only the darkness of its own demise
To show the way of its sinister life
Promising enduring anguish to the weak

It eats the flesh and drinks the blood
From the vigorous but tainted heart
And leaves behind worms that will breed
And consume the rotting carcass 

It gives an ugly voice to the wicked
Telling stories ending in shame
Uncovering the disfigured face 
Of what was once honor and pride

It follows the deserted road set in darkness
Taken only by the lost and the miserable
At war alongside the dark side within    
An Armageddon to fight alone in the shadows

It is the child of the corrupt, the spawn of the dishonest 
Born to be punished, its last breath breeding freedom
The inner shift and clash fading away through the light
Replaced by the wholesome spirit, redeemed by faith and peace

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