Hells of cold, hells of old; all pain, no gold. Fire blazes emanate from the grey eyed warden angel shawled and enthralled. Her decisions leave splatter on the walls.
A Chinese ancient evil bleeds green amid the gnarled eaves wishing it’d never sought to bedevil the peace of GOD’s seas.
Akimbo lays in limbo staring for stairs he once saw descend there. He seeks to escape to higher sights, to condemn his present as a past blight.
by Jerriè McGill