On Crimson Stone

By Eadgar Anton Crowe

I woke, the beast in the midst of  sheep
Hungry amid food for war - and saw about me
Hearts and flesh freely adorned the floor

With teeth I spake prey unto their voids
Sweet, raw flesh speared upon my joy
And in the dying hall I stood
Dining on the hearts of what and whom I could

Agony, the flavour of cracking bone
With fear, a silent orchestra, composed
This symphony of fate

Draped on crimson stones

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2016 Christopher Allen
Published on Sunday, November 14, 2021.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "On Crimson Stone"

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  • Tagen On Wednesday, March 30, 2016, Tagen (119)By person wrote:

    Bloody and moody. Great pen again! I love the wrothness of it.

  • Queazenart On Saturday, March 12, 2016, Queazenart (212)By person wrote:

    Oooooh how Poe of you! Feels a bit like The Conqueror Worm to me. The phrasing/imagery gives it that classic horror feel.

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