The Ascension of the Street Poet
The famished and the thirsty
The weak and downright dirty
The children of the storm
And the clutch of plagueist swarm.
Mt tongue in purring fashion
With a breathless beating ache
Whispers of the future
When the earth begins to shake.
And now my fingers tremble
As the harpies fly above
That the only one redemption
Can come from our hate of love.
The scratching in the metal
The namesake on the door
The only way is up
While we're sprawling on the floor.
The ask is growing frequent
As the outstretched hand does grasp,
A torturous conclusion
That human kind can't last.
I like the Armageddon,
And the fact the end will come.
And I welcome it with smiles,
When I see what we've become.
The saintless and the gory,
The bored and still the sane,
The ecstasy of horror
While dishing out the pain.
Cassandra Dalton
