Herald

Sound the trumpets!
the bloody corpse
with its hanging lies
maneuvers its way into
hologrammed hearts

It's taking over

Destiny fulfilled
in mixed measurements of
prepubescent miseries
waddles in unstable
carelessly suggesting better routes
of entertainment

Bearing the mark
of a man of soliloquies
the message is relayed;
"Carry on, my friend.
Your gift to us
Is a gift to all."
no one listens

Time disappears

There is thunder hiding
in small nooks of
sooty corners waiting
for the right time to
share the news

A calculated emergence;
the offspring of defined goals
and evil temptations
laces the pages of
The Fine Arts Tribune

Smile, you've been cloned

©2018 Tremaine L. Loadholt, All Rights Reserved

Author’s Note: Today marks the one year anniversary of A Cornered Gurl here on Medium. For each of you taking the time to read, respond, and interact in various ways, thank you. It has been an eye-opening journey and I am grateful for every moment.

Peace and blessings.

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