Frederic Parker Poet Couplet

A Dung Lit World

I've stolen your fate as a trophy I own
Its blood dripping another stain on my throne

To me you are nothing but something to kill
To beg for a reason my hate I fulfill

The pain I'll inflict with cold vibrant glee
Comes without cost to my conscience for me

This dung lit world where rage finds its thirst
A shadowy figure to every life I curse

In hell I find comfort,  its filth and stench I know
To rip away each vein from your heart,  before I go

Your gurgling cauldron of breath I will steal
To fill my chalice with pain, to you I'll reveal

This need to release such a terrible scorn
It flows so cold, my hatred for ever being born


1/7/17 contest You Say You want a Revolution

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Andrea Dietrich January 13, 2017 at 7:09 PM oh I love that very last line. I do believe some of them really hate themselves but then others are pure narcissists! Your word usage is so awesome in this poem. I am sure Debs will prefer it to mine! (I'll be lucky if I even make the list)

Arlene Smith January 13, 2017 at 12:22 PM Holy Moly my friend! So dark and powerful... Not your usual style, but you do it SO WELL! 7! and bol in the contents... Arlene

Daniel Turner January 8, 2017 at 1:08 PM Very dramatic, Frederic. A little darker than your normal writes and I really like it:)