Anthracite

They comment on my shiny armour
As they struggle to hold their drool
Unbeknownst the knife they hold
As they pretend to be a farmer

Felicitous colleagues wear their masks
As I toil amongst the broken
Tears for the lost wet my cheeks
As they drop poison from their flasks.

By another name a Judas rat
Who dispise what they cant do
Diprosopus existence their greatest tool
As they carve their name upon my back

This entry was posted on Jan 14, 2016 at 12:22 pm and is filed under Wee horror. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.