Wednesday, 8 October 2014

The Haunted

They walk with their pitch forks,
Some with their knives,
Out to kill the demons,
Who're after their lives...

Oh yes!
Their paradoxical lives,
Filled with anti thesis,
Invisible to our eyes...

For the beasts of hatred,
And the beasts of avarice,
Are out to get their hide...

They seek out the people,
In the darkest of nights,
In the brightest of days,
Like bees in a glass hive...

These few will be found,
And they will be bound,
By a tight rope,
In the eternal recess --
Of sadness and envy...