Terrible melted wax figurine

With large, grotesque, bloated lips

Spewing poisonous vapor

In a cacaphony of venomous words.

 

Semi-dead zombie

Enslaved by your addictions and ego,

An unwelcome, uninvited presence

Cutting your way

In scattered scissor steps

Through the lives

Of your imagined, maligned enemies.

 

Easily tracked

By the path of slime

You leave in your wake;

Upheaval and broken roads

That, try as you may,

You’ll not walk again.

 

Hard greasy air,

The residue of your fetid breath.

Living inside your death

You fight hard to be recognized,

But you are inconsequential,

Nothing,

A non-contender

Who entered the ring

Under false pretenses.

 

Your mask is slipping,

The ugliness now showing,

You claw at your face

Drawing blood,

Licking it as it seeps

Onto your large, grotesque, bloated lips.

 

Tearing at your disguise,

The world witnesses

Your true bloodsucking self;

Wild eyes darting,

Riddled with lies,

Evil, emotional vampire.

 

Readied for the stake,

For the sake of the world,

It is driven through

Your dark blasphemous heart

In one swift thrust of righteousness.

 

 

A new day dawns

Shining brilliantly

The Sun celebrates

Your final departure.

 

© 2012 Candice James

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