Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Ghoul.
Bathe me in the gore and maggots,
amongst the churches and abbots.
The word sinful,
its meaning deliciously plentiful.
The crimson maddening for my skin,
addicted by the iron scent from within.
Vultures accompanying me on such a marvelous trip,
indulging ourselves in every sip.
The sound of their screams making a song of their own accord,
of this delightful tune of murder and discord.
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The rhyme scheme feels natural here, and the imagery is great, too--the scent of blood, the screams like music.
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