The wolf is never satisfied in it’s brief slumber;
O, it rises and growls,
Consummating with itself in a holy ritual
Of blood and gnashing sharp teeth
Leaving holes on the body and
Pock marks on the soul.
The garden of Eden, is here,
Inaccessible.
Rotten Apple
Well written.
Interesting piece here. Great job on being very creative. I could the images as I read this.