a poem to share...eh, it's okay
Apr. 5th, 2025 05:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grimmrowIt’s the earliest visage, a myriad of recalls to my mind
In my tuff was not meat, nor poultry but vegetable and fruit
Along came a dragon and opened my maw to shove unwanted nourishment down the line of my throat,
I begged for fruit and vegetables, I cried for candy and sweets, but I was given nothing but refined sugars and processed ignorance
I asked again and again to spare the womb-parent, I’ll eat whatever you give me but they mean every single word, they would devour anything that would grant them superceded abilities beyond measure
It makes not a sense, nor a sliver, why do you care so much while you wither, you brought this upon yourself you vile wretched thing crawling on it’s belly,
it’s better to beg now before you disappear into the hemisphere, only to be destroyed by holy light
I wait for the day when you no longer whisper ‘Just choose me, child. I bet you live until you’re 93.’
It’s coming soon that I whisper back at your one last hurrah. ‘I live until 104 and only a little more. Now be gone foul demon, in my mind there’s a door. Escape into the night, where you won’t see a face nor hear a whimper anymore.
In my tuff was not meat, nor poultry but vegetable and fruit
Along came a dragon and opened my maw to shove unwanted nourishment down the line of my throat,
I begged for fruit and vegetables, I cried for candy and sweets, but I was given nothing but refined sugars and processed ignorance
I asked again and again to spare the womb-parent, I’ll eat whatever you give me but they mean every single word, they would devour anything that would grant them superceded abilities beyond measure
It makes not a sense, nor a sliver, why do you care so much while you wither, you brought this upon yourself you vile wretched thing crawling on it’s belly,
it’s better to beg now before you disappear into the hemisphere, only to be destroyed by holy light
I wait for the day when you no longer whisper ‘Just choose me, child. I bet you live until you’re 93.’
It’s coming soon that I whisper back at your one last hurrah. ‘I live until 104 and only a little more. Now be gone foul demon, in my mind there’s a door. Escape into the night, where you won’t see a face nor hear a whimper anymore.
