By Nicholas Shields
amongst the husks heart
god’s creation
there is hatred.
a vast emptiness
now with tendrils of crimson
that stretch out
coiling the skin
this vexing of the world
only outweighed
by inner coveting
of internal agony
screams echo silently.
in the skulls cruel cage
nocturnus is my hatred
my second world
a corner where
i can write with blood
seeping from invisible cuts
my suffering belongs to me
i dream of sleeping
in a sanguine river
of my own creation
to float down
the beauty of being nothing
gods’ carcass
lies at the mouth
and it has no skin
nor flesh
just a smile