The Demon

Her tongue was slit and forked with the lies of a thousand serpents,

Slithering and worming her honey-sweet infection through the

Weak and fragile sheep-mentalities of her herds of viruses;

They followed her like insects,

They said their mantis-prayers

To the lipstick-messiah.


Porcelain, pearly fangs line her pink mouth, and all I see is

Shards of glass, her words are the bitter flow of a polluted river;

Lies and rumours, radioactive poison, toxic lies as plastic as her

Smiles, but they tangle in her shining webs.


They devour her sugarcoat-cyanide stories, worshippers as mechanical

As dolls, broken dolls, soon to be discarded, each one perfectly disposable.

They watch me and they point and laugh, I watch them and feel pity,

They will drown in the frozen lakes of her eyes, an ice-blue pit of hell

And then I'll laugh.


The End

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