Broken.
Shattered.
Red, velvet, sticky blood gushing.
The rose has been shed of all its petals.
The moon overlooks in the darkest of nights,
Silence begins to scream.


Festering pus leaks from the Meat,
The Sun is hundreds of miles away
And won’t be returning, until the moon is satisfied
but that seems like never.
Clouds surround the moon.


Light overpowers the wispy attempt at security
Dogs then howl their grievances,
They don’t see the Meat.
The Maggots have completely savaged the delicate flesh.


The Maggots leave.
Forgetting the satisfying meal that
Just got them through
Another
Lonesome
Night.