a very short contrapuntal poem. I just found this form really interesting.
It's hard not to like someone who's so kind and miserable and kind despite so miserable.
|
The Roach Emperor |
Gregor |
|
|
|
|
we are |
born to be |
|
a weapon, |
a shell, |
|
an army. |
a layer of |
|
the destruction itself, wrapped in |
human disguise. |
|
the skittering wings |
behind the walls, |
|
thirsting |
that sugary smell |
|
of blood and flesh. |
it makes me |
|
tremble |
lose |
|
in the desire to kill. |
myself. |
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