blueavenger

Barely conscious in this dust-coated room, pulse shallow but quick Making our way out, yelling, "Post-haste!" for the air is getting thick Racing past those biting the columns, and being bitten back Glazed eyes permanently transfixed on bare ceilings, jaws slack Kings and queens with fetishes for sin, their cups gold, wine spilt Cloaks torn apart by moths and mice, their souls by sharp guilt Harlots and jokers, entertaining with painted faces and smiles Hedonism poisoned by the guilt discovered upon their final trials Priests and monks with bound scriptures covered in bodily juices Sell away your love and lust for forgiveness and ho