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Damn Near Perfect!
By Mark Edgemon

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Damn Near Perfect!
By Mark Edgemon

Insidious, bathed in filthy lucre;
Dripping with the murderous stench
Of a thousand sudden betrayals
Of empty promises never kept.
Innocence marred, drunk on endorphins;
Paid to stoke hell fire with trusting prey.
 
Evil IS as selfish does.
 
Placing oneself above the hope of others;
Of family; of bystanders crying out for assistance;
Desiring kindness and understanding,
Yet receiving malevolence incarnate.
Not by the criminally insane...
At least, net yet...but by the brother,
The friend, who sold loved ones to be incinerated,
Fulfilling their mission, forged in witchcraft,
Tilting the scales toward darkness,
Casting the world into oblivion!
 
The End

Go on to next poem by Mark Edgemon: Death is Everything It's Cracked Up To Be!
Return to: The Works of Mark Edgemon