Time was
when time wasn’t.
He’s there now
watching me
through the window
he never leaves
and he’s waiting
till I exit the door
and at that moment
he will get me
to the nearest tree we’ll go
with barb wire
and little worm like things
he planned it long ago
and so
I’m waiting
I’m waiting for an angel
she will save me
she will have long thick golden hair
and a face of conviction
massive wings, translucent and leathery
a figure that from top to bottom
would tempt even a saint
she will exude sensuality
but her intent will be pure
and
she will cleave that demon
clear through from head to foot,
from top to bottom,
and then
I’ll be free.
A smirking demon
with soulless eyes
scaly skin
and four spikes in his head
he holds up the mask of wisdom
as if to poke fun at it
that mask is empty
in his other hand he holds a bloodied sword
for war has come
and behind him a church burns
tears for you and I.
Time was
when time wasn’t
but it’s not over
not nearly.
– matt at shadow of iris
[Inspired by works of Wes Benscoter and Luis Royo]
