Scratch my skin
and the blood
flickers slowly.

The crimson river
flows so elegantly
as majestic as the
the emperor's vine.

We explode and dine,
as the spirits of
long ago digs dagger
deep within our spine.

Tasteless we grow,
as we strive to be
the ultimate blade
that stabs blindly
onward.

And a spineless full amongst
the endless wave,
writing and communing with
the ghosts and spirits
of death and me.

For in it all I am doomed
with the haunts of you
and I.

10/31/2009

Posted on 10/31/2009
Copyright © 2025 Christopher Shin