By Connor MacDonald:
There is something inside of me
It isn’t who I am.
Possesses numbing: Decidedly.
I’m a sham, a scam.
I need to be released.
The Beast.
Asphalt covered in shadow.
I had fought a man, his blood cold.
The garotte deathblow.
You made me cross the threshold.
No longer policed.
I am released.
Bound and unbecoming
There will be no drumming.
I’m revealed now.
Never repealed, on the prowl.
A humble priest
For The Deceased.
The Philistine Review 
Leave a comment