THE DAMNED by Miss Steele

Miss Steele | July 5th, 2024 | poetry | No Comments

Poem

She spits nails, consumed by ire.
High above the clouds in her ivory tower
This acidic serpent coils inside her
Burning desire to set the world on fire.

Salt crystals stain her face.
Her darkness inside, such tender embrace
She is different now; she is not herself.
She is somewhere between heaven and hell.

Beware those caught in her snare.
She sees right through you, her gaze strips you bare.
Your wicked ways brought to light.
She will destroy you; you will feel her smite.

Time means nothing she will lay in wait.
When the time is nigh, she seals your fate.
Gather your shrapnel, Charon’s obol.
She has done, she drops the anvil.

Poet Bio

she is artwork and glory
she smells like cherries, spilt ink and thunderstorms

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