Pathetic Angel

don't you just adore manipulative women who gossip?

Pathetic Angel

 

The Angel of Death, inconstant sly spirit,

Dangling from her Meth, her sinister lies steer it:

They hear it, fear it, slobber where her spear hit

My back, my rack, a sacred honor they attack

With an addict’s words, veiling her quacks.

 

The Angel of Death, desiring to wash my feet,

Swill my last breath, manipulate the elite,

A shallow foray, day after day, her mind decayed,

Streaming blather through the gutter, they say

Everything she’ll babble, foul gossip’s way.

 

The Angel of Death, so prim and effeminate,

Crows flock to all her best, clandestine bends of wit.

Yet why not offend, crisis the vices of men such as I?

Still she bends and cries while she vends and sighs,

Tends her prize with glaring, barbiturous eyes.

 

The Angel of Death, a being once oh so fine,

Her degree is now deaf to a healing, reeling mind,

Accosting from the left, dismal wall she hides behind,

Exhausted, bereft o’r a man’s heart she couldn’t bind,

Wind, or affect, she imparts with her kind.

 

SR Urie

Reviews

[katyj]

Oh My mighty powerful write, i'm like just wow. so poetic and talented, this is a real tugger.

[Kat Collins]

Wow. I'm a bit at loss for words. There are echoes of Edgar Allen Poe with the poetic voice of Shakespeare and the like. The Angel of Death...harbringer of endless agony and weeping and gnashing of teeth. You capture the spirit well. Her strength is rended on the sorrows of others.