When the veil between worlds was as thin as the deceit that exists within us all.
I captured a moment in turn, embracing a memory to erode with my sanity’s ever-waning coil.
Blood to rights and pleasure to seal the pact.
As I cannot speak for the feast, but the spread was ever so divine.
The wines stain the decay's stench.
Outside the circle is such a more fascinating place to play.
Hoof to soil bound by velvet restraints, as barbed wire's embrace is the constant of this earth.
Choking for pleasures untold in daylight’s conversation, not all bruises are cast in anger.
As the lies we embrace to protect the loss of purity of their own minds asylum.
The hour beckons, as so very much does the night.
I tend my thoughts with anticipation of the return of old truths and darkest understanding.
I am always ever so happy to extinguish the light.
John Patrick Robbins is the editor in chief of the Rye Whiskey Review and Off The Coast Magazine.
His work has been published at. Fixator Press, Impspired Magazine, Lothlorian Journal Of Poetry, The Dope Fiend Dailey, San Pedro River Review, Red Fez, Horror Sleaze Trash and It Takes All Kinds Literary Zine.
His work is always unfiltered.
