Showing posts from November 16, 2008

Abeed Al-Biet

Terror’s teeth lunges for the leather whip that cracks the tense and shackled light.

We’ve enough of that, screeches the slave. Feared enough, roars the wounded slave. Pity, you’re caged by your own foul tongue, captured by your will to stir darkness, spent of courage that would mock a fair beast sending what’s been dead for what hasn’t lived.

What should we do with you, cries the slave. When shall we begin, shouts the bold slave. What shall we do with my fear, shrieks the master!

Terror’s teeth pierces the sheath that houses the whip and sets free its trembling.

© 2008 mrp/tpm