I’ll be on the shore under a killin’ moon.
When twilight falls—I’ll be reckoned soon.
A Pale Rider cuts the night,
If I’m wrong, I’ll be on the right.
Some pray for peace; they’ll pray for chance.
People stay the same wherever I go,
They lay back down on the killing floor.
I spit it back and let the devil know—
Better on the right than in the way…
You know damn well
there’ll be no begging today!
Some need redemption,
they beg for chance.
Others be afraid of hell.
Reconcile where nightmares dwell—
Hooked on Scratches demitasse.
I’m midnight bleu—
I’m cold when Hot.
I ain’t buying what you sell.
I’ve gone left, right, to and fro.
People stay the same wherever I go.
They’ll beg for peace; they’ll pray for more.
They’ll lay back down on the killing floor.
I spit it back, I let em’ know—
I buried hope in a shallow grave.
Besides the mercy I refused to save,
Ain’t no cross too heavy to bear.
What I became in the devil’s stare.
I’m Midnight Bleu,
Nothing left to prove,
Same blood, same bruise.
Lay it back— Lay back down—
Lay on down the killing floor.
The devil’s ballroom spins its tune—
Shadows fall, under the killn’ moon.
-
Author:
C.W Bleu (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 23rd, 2025 16:14
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
Offline)
Comments3
Welcome to MPS, C.W.🙏🏻🕊
Dark with a very different view of right and wrong. This poem challenges the reader to redefine limits. Nicely done
Thank you, much appreciated.
My pleasure
I wanted to see where you were coming from .. I was not disappointed .. Neville
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