As the Night Collects Your Debt
As the night collects your debt
Find this the rotting door now thrust,
creaking screams align the mire
Loosened shadows coughing dust
in a world now set afire
Worry gathers in the mist,
along a crooked staircase rise
Nooses hang from rafter’s twist,
portraits gaze through swollen eyes
Smell the stench of fevers past,
sweat does stream of wallowed reach
Moors in line of wretched cast,
lessons taught but not to teach
Break this bread of mirrored shard,
slurp your lime serrated drink
Write as if a napkin bard,
any thought with which you think
Last, these days of sorted lanes,
walking chains and lockets bore
Weakness in your heart now claims
of a time you lived before
Stare the darkness now you keep,
forcing out a sad regret
You shall sow the fear you reap
as the night collects your debt
Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2017
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