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Mariah K Rowse

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Scorned
by Mariah K Rowse

Friday, April 29, 2005
Not rated by the Author.
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Recent poems by Mariah K Rowse
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           >> View all 202

Darkness…barely registered.
Holding the six-shooter in my hands.
The blood, like holy water on my face.
What an unconventional baptism…

Hold your breath and count to ten.
They’re all dead or dying now.
All must meet their tragic end…

Be mindful of the corpse in the corner,
I used to love him.
Now his beautiful body lay twisted like lace,
Among the once white gossamer curtains he clung to.

He didn’t even get to hear his own scream.
So perfect and melodious.
Take the picture before the death settles on his skin.
I want to remember this moment forever.
I must remember why Hell is calling my name.

Now that I pace through the valley,
It’s a never-ending, treacherous walk.
The sun, smoldering like hot coals upon my back.
My head tipped high and lashing with defiant eyes.
I spit in the face of the Devil,
Claiming me for the sins I committed.

But yet, in the distance…
It’s inconceivable.
I see a beautiful body, burning.
And the Devil has let me go.
I’ve been redeemed.

A trade…

And still in the distance…
A silent scream tears through the air.
Agonizing…
Defeated…
Suffering…
All in the form of a beautiful body,

Twisted like lace…

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Reviewed by Mary Quire 4/30/2005
A haunting write. The last stanza is very strong, giving a little more life to the suffering. Very nicely done.

M.Rose
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