Pete's poems from the night.
40,035 poems read
Preacher.
Comes the train
A whistling phantom,
As a porch swing
Sways reflection.
He prayed with the flock
Giving the gospel,
A submissive to pleasure
With a child's betrayal.
Evil possessed
Was paid in kind,
Taking the virgin
To soil it's mind.
A child's perspective
Forever preserved,
Released and numb
As time is served.
Now voices come
Filling his head,
As a party of souls
Who won't play dead.
A desert on fire
His soul is pained,
His hand, guided
By ghosts he stained.
Goes the train
Whispering farewell,
As a dying breeze
Cools an empty shell.
Comes the train
A whistling phantom,
As a porch swing
Sways reflection.
He prayed with the flock
Giving the gospel,
A submissive to pleasure
With a child's betrayal.
Evil possessed
Was paid in kind,
Taking the virgin
To soil it's mind.
A child's perspective
Forever preserved,
Released and numb
As time is served.
Now voices come
Filling his head,
As a party of souls
Who won't play dead.
A desert on fire
His soul is pained,
His hand, guided
By ghosts he stained.
Goes the train
Whispering farewell,
As a dying breeze
Cools an empty shell.
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Preacher.
Preacher.