PLEASANTRY

George,
The world's had enough of you.
The time is ripe for your dismissal.
The moon is set,
The tides are right,
You are about to end.
The time is now,
The place is here

I need a nightcap of your blood.
Lean your neck toward my words
And I will slice your jugular with verse!
Shred your damp soul with jibes!
Lance your heart with prose!
And deliver the fatal blow
With the simple
Unadulterated truth!
Lean forward
And you shall know.

INWARD

Days move downward
waiting
Nights move inward
lingering
Death creeps in
clothed as truth
waiting to lie
Hope meanders through
masquerading as children
sent off to die
Nights move inward
waiting

mrp