The Blessing
It frothed, it boiled from deep within her soul,
fermenting in the furnaces of hell.
Considering how best to take her toll,
With heaving breast, stared down the infidel,
and belched it forth with foul and fetid smell.
It launched, depraved and deathly, to the skies;
the horror of its impact filled his eyes.
Try though he might, he could not quell his fears,
and thus, did rationality despise.
The evil jabberwock fell on his ears.
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for the Dizain Poetry Contest Poetry Contest
sponsored by Sotto Poet
written on 10/18/22
what some people apparently think when you say, "God bless you!" :-)
Copyright © Jeff Kyser | Year Posted 2022
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