Haters
In that hot place
dull eyed folk with ice on their cheeks
gaze at nothing.
Wrapped in their deadly skin,
they do not flinch
from the arrows of their Gods.
They are the desolate ones,
that live with anger,
their souls aflame with chill fire.
Among innocents
their blood will flow
and their bodies will rot
in pieces,
forgotten.
Copyright © Kaye Locke | Year Posted 2013
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