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INSIDIOUS TIDES

Butterflies without wings
Made soulless by grinning young psychopaths 
Killers growing in the sun
Enjoying snow and watching things go
To places only they can know 
Realms of future unmade days and nights 
Where pools of lifeless red spread what’s dead
Smear blades and skin and the easy wicked grin ;

Unconceived tomorrows lay in grey
Waiting to give or take away 
In lines and rows and the inconceivable 
In the grip of the frozen drip 
In something miraculous ;

On the outside they’re really nice 
But that’s because the camouflage is always there
And the only thing that gives them away is that ice like stare

On the inside is a deepening need of pain and death
A chaos where nothing else can ease this lack of filling 
And flesh that is satisfied only by seeing and feeling life slip away ;

Only at the moment of life ending does it all add up 
Each little clue becomes visibly stacked 

But there’s no going back.........

Copyright © KEITH DODRILL

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