Dirty Rat

Can you face the quickened, with their thunderclouds of anger, their flash like, lightning'd eyes, their impotence of patience, for the mercies they have rendered,  of the kindnesses asunder'd...by your craven disregard?

Can you stand against the judgement's, to be heralded by angels, in your bald faced lies...and little else? Prepare...till time's atonement ticks no more, my dears!

Then, stagger toward your lightless pile, you salt of vile earth...and fall upon your worthless swords, till, be no more, where it is finished...that you cast the bones of children off!


Written by Bruce James Clyde 2017, at Deming, New Mexico

Art: Google pic