Inside Out

twisted figures

inhale shadows

until midnight

is a blackhole

corpse oozing

from our self-

inflicted belly

wounds.

 

tombs for souls.

we are all just

tombs for souls

 

too cold to shine;

too dead to speak.

 

rodents seeking

refuge from the

Light;

 

biting at the pain,

clawing at the truth

that proves life

is not a favorable

state of being.

 

staring into Nothing-ness;

peering into ourselves.

Author's Note

Bosch painting: Judgement

Reviews

[Emily B]

awesomeness

[Nobody.]

Your a pretty sick dude. But I love ya. And I love Bosch.
Good stuff!

[Bare Bohemian]

Call me presumptuous, but it appears I may have had a hand in inspiring this riveting piece.