Dark Poetry
Progeny of the Damned
            By Sharla Anderson

I quaff the veins of angels fallen,
dine from the skull of cherubs driven,
sear pallid sheath marked by Deity’s thumb
behold, as fractured feathers scratch the sky
along Rapture’s wrath; ‘tis an eerie ride
eagerly I kiss exiled lips of contempt
my mortal fingers, bejeweled with seraphic halos,
pluck the strings of wings to mount upon me
specter I’ve become, temporal am I
stealing breath of One
to pierce Earth with crimson lyre
wading, I await within
pristine pangs amid outcast rivers
to rise from swollen embers, exalted.