Metamorphous
Metamorphous; Trickling on the violet rose, decaying into a crimson thorn.
As sinners vibrant words branch and become dusk, in the fog.
Their cadaver the canvas
Will truly know the swift, and elegant touch of my,
Retribution.
For I am, the dull - revitalized soul of your sufferer.
Copyright © Guy-Adler Dorelien | Year Posted 2010
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