Caricamento in corso...
Robert L. Martin

Bestial Cannon Balls

Invisible ammunition,
bestial cannon balls,
virions of the devil’s army
of microscopic proportions,
fired from the battlefields
from unholy
CoronaVirus cannons,
invisible warfare,
breaking the rules of war,
hideous looking globes
of an ashen colored body
that reeks of rotted flesh
with bloody red flowery spikes
on the opposite ends
of the penetrating nibs
that are stuck in the
heart of the devil’s oleander,
scattered throughout the
fields of protein lumps,
sucking up the venom inside,
the tongue of the beast
lapping up his diabolic juice,
his deadly ammunition,
 
the works of the
devil’s advocates
sewn on demonic looms
in the house of evil
with rose colored
bushes protruding
like patterned dresses
of the prostitutes,
the unholy angels
who flutter through the
pure air made impure,
the microscopic
cannon balls that land
in the lungs and steal the air
until man’s final breath passes
through the mortal gates.

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