Schezuan Chicken

Monday, 12 May 2008 By Unregistered Corresp
Slender beams of moonlight enter
this darkened prison as I kneel
always driven, always in prayer,
frozen here, waiting for the * row.


Angelic forms wrought in panes of glass
loom as dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
searing my secret outstretched arms.

Blood on humanity's face.
I raise my head, now formatting
my poem to an annoying width
this callous mortality and more *'s




By Captain Random Poetry Generator
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