Murderous Holiday
MURDEROUS HOLIDAY
By Roy Merritt
The havocs came out of the fog
with faces wretched and forlorn
Borne them up from hell
Borne them upon the storm
A vacation from the nether world
Satan has granted these few
To alight upon the living
To do the things they knew
To do the things they knew
To do the things they've done
To smite the good and bad
In revelatory fun
And one can hear the terror
Where these monsters feet have tread
Leaving blood where they walk
And many prone and dead
And when their victims wail and bade
The reason why
Why this compulsion they possess
Why must it be they die
The havocs will roar with laughter
A horrid sound it be
And declare to these inquiries
It merely be destiny
It was written upon tablets
From Ages ill defined
Deemed before the minutes
Even merged themselves with time
And we be just the servants
Of Satan and God as well
They be one in the same
Ruling in heaven and hell
We obey their every whim
We act on what they say
And they be the ones who grant us
This murderous holiday
This bloody holiday
Copyright © Roy Merritt | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment