The Judge, a poem for the forsaken
Hello my demon friends and foes. I’ve come to offer you this rose. Salty iron, red with love, Dripping beauty, tears, and blood. Death is dreaming, soon to waken. Life is barren and forsaken. Plead with me for scales unweighted. No judge blinded, decided, jaded. Within the world of whispers quiet, Without the verbal pulpit pilots, Where only pride is price to paupers, Patience cannot … Continue reading The Judge, a poem for the forsaken

