Tony Bush Poet I do not know?

Glass Demon

Therein he lives, in amber seas, 
in suds and carbonation, curled 
in silent hibernation, waiting 
an evil, patient wait, for lips 
and gullet set him free.

Unleashed, his promise activates, 
in stealthy infiltration spreads 
his bleak indoctrination, stalking 
an evil, patient stalk, in veins 
and nerves inebriate.

Surprise, surprise, it's me again, 
with morbid fascination, violence 
breeding desolation, beating 
an evil, patient beat with demon 
fists that feast on pain. 

Herein she lies, as bruises swell, 
tears bled in desperation, crying 
for some sweet salvation, praying 
a ragged, haggard prayer for 
deliverance from his hell.

Inside she knows, has realised 
that this black incarceration is 
a brutalised vocation, knowing 
as how he may never be 
glass demon exorcised.

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