words slash
from tongues
like blades
flaying the skin
from
innocent fools
traipsing along
the road to ruin

peeled
with angry intent
like the flesh
of rotting fruit
in a dish
on
the table
of incontinence

the hoarse cries
of those
who lost
their voices
wailing
for salvation
on the precipice
of sundered hope

begone
foul beast
of doubt
severed
from the grasping claws
of feeble intuition
seeking the light
of failing stars

leave
the insipid trapping
of inspiration
to dribble
down
the rocky face
of life’s
loose soil

take
the wicked blade
of tonguebile
flee
with tail ensconced
betwixt
shaking legs
and quivering spine