The massive book falls open,
the red leather binding but a crumbling powder
the pages yellow with age,
the words stained with ancient sweat.
The candles are annointed,
the censers ignited in fragrant reverence,
the daggers sharpened
for the unholy act which follows.
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Author:
Fränz Müller (
Offline) - Published: June 22nd, 2025 20:14
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Priya Tomar
Offline)
Comments2
This poem seems to set the scene for a ritual that is to follow. Great painting of the image in words. Lovely
A clever setting the scene for the sacrifice to be made, enjoyed the read
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