Contemptible Free Verse

Fiery flags, wave yourselves against the backdrop of chaos. We revel in the unknown, purpose driven through defeat. “I will embrace thee,” quote the widow tempest, “I will carry thee to the suffering.” She knows not what she promises, neither do you few who too skew cures for words true. Live in the shadows, dance in the ancient blackness of hearts long softened, beat up in the bleak hours of the sun. I pity none now, for I am the pitied; I mock no more in my destitution. A vampire, a ghoul, a savage thing am I, feeding on those disillusioned masses. Now in the eve of today, I will carry you into the morrow, fighting yesterday all along the way.

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