Squelch, Belch, Dying, Dead
I heard the squelch of death again,
It had reached the gate of Heaven,
Conceived that pain, war midst the Host,
Of Angels, a Crown, Holy Ghost,
Shred into a scaled blazing red,
Merely produce the dying dead,
As they cannot hold their mouths closed,
Doom to grief, forever exposed,
Let them come hither, tither, ne'er,
The Heavenly host, I don't care,
He gave me this realm, my, own place,
He has Heaven, Hell be my base,
So let them squelch, sounds of beauty,
Squelching heard He knows my duty,
Still, I'm at my guard, Hell is mine,
For dying still comes, stands in line.
(***Sight still under construction)
2019 September 12
howmanysyllables
16 lines x 8 syllables = a perfect 128
Copyright © Hilo Poet | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment