Having laid your wrath upon me, as the twisted words,
are released from the darkness in your heart.
Brusque attitudes enrapture vice.
Your pride got in the way and envy is surrounding me.
Gluttony at the feast was grotesque, like lust lying
with its loins spread open.
The greed of the minions spilled poverty on the crowd.
Like a futile sloth you crawl below the surface.
Red Wolf Journal Spring 2014, and a fresh start
2 years ago