IN THE CHASM




In the chasms of doctrine and superstition,

Standing at the brink of our delusions,

Buried ‘neath the weight of my own contrition,

Waiting for judgment’s final conclusions,

Waiting for the moment of condemnation,

Waiting for all the charges to be read.

Sentenced to life’s eternal damnation,

These decaying corpses of our undead.



We who walk through the alluvial wasteland,

Charged to witness our own perversions;

Obscenities feeding upon the damned,


Bound by the threads of our own aversions.



M Teresa Clayton

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