The End

 

Forlorn they cry where shadows lie
And husbands leave the home
Sons and brothers, uncles and fathers,
Across a dead land roam

Skies of black above their backs
Shoulders hunched by woe
A weary tred as legions head
To face the tyrant foe

For rest they yearn while fires burn
Beacons on the horizon
Terror signs of evil times
And shadow hordes arising

A shifting cloak of boiling smoke
An acrid rotting smell
Hid beasts of death with poisonous breath
Eyes lit with fires of hell

Face to face with weapons raised
In a land gone black with blight
Brave men roared when arrows soared
Shadows called delight

On that field did no man yield
Each and all were slain
The shadow hordes and Midnight Lords
Marched on to bloody reign

©Aarron Mondello 29/7/2018

Human Waste

 

Reek and refuse
Vile aroma
A stench fit to
Induce a coma
Trash and rubbish
Line the streets
A midden heap
Of human feet
Tramping filth
With every step
Polluting the air
With every breathe
To rot and ruin
Has gone man
It’s almost more
Than I can stand
To see the scowls
On every face
In every park
In every place
Like no-one left
Knows how to smile
Reek and refuse
Demeanor vile

©Aarron Mondello
7/3/2018

 

The Serpent

By Aarron Mondello

3/12/2017

The fork tongued serpent
With poison speech
Never repentant
As it seeks
To pour sickly honey
In your ears
And gain your loyalty
Through your fears
Spiting viscous lies
From its lips
While in disguise
It calmly sits
Feigning intentions
Pure and true
There will not be redemption
When it’s through
You’ll cast aside
Those close and dear
And draw the poison
Serpent near
Finally when
You’re brought down low
It’ll shed it’s skin
And let you know
It takes great delight
In your fall from grace
So stay vigilant for
The Serpents Face.

©Aarron Mondello 2017


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