A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth.
Angel
I am a husk of the former slave
A contingent emissary, checking in from the dark
With blanket stares
Enough eyes to coat the starry sky
With lessons, condescension
And so is the face of the angel
Ingrained in stone
Hand to the plow
Bullet frozen in the stagnant water
Kiss that tastes like champagne
Screaming, shrieking, lyrics in the frontal lobe
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