Song of inspiration: Control by Halsey
Once upon a time
lived an immoral King.
The king tasted like metal and gasoline
and sparks ignited
with a simple touch
of his thin
bloodied
fingers.
The king had skin like milky white opal,
eyes like smelted bronze,
obsidian feathers for hair.
He wore blood and gold like a family crest
The false burnt laurels
rested like a light shone on a raven;
a halo on the devil.
The Immoral King
was once beloved by his people
when he was first crowned.
Beauty does not equal righteousness.
He said it himself.
His fingers of his right,
nimble like a pianist,
dripped with the cherry-red
of hunting game.
The hearts of his people screamed
on the wet tiles,
dyed with death.
On his left hand,
a chalice of gore he held.
Swaying to the terrified chorus
and saying to himself,
"This
is
Good."
YOU ARE READING
Cerulean
Non-FictionMy thoughts, depression and short stories need a place to stay. (Trigger Warning: may potentially contain explicit content such as depression, suicide, substance abuse, etc.)
