Blood Stained

Nightmare or hell!
I really couldn’t tell.
There was a strange smell,
and distant bell.

I glanced at the ceiling,
Saw the paint peeling.
An instinctual feeling,
I wasn’t leaving.

The window smashed through,
A fierce creature in view.
Unaware of the other two,
Who stood watching in lieu.

Paralyzed with fear,
Unaware they were near.
I willed my mind clear,
And held back a tear.

A cold finger on my back,
Caressing my spines track.
Aroused, i looked back,
My soul under attack.

A puncture to the chest,
She drank from my breast.
As the blood stained my vest,
I prayed for rest.

The other before me,
laughing uncontrollably.
No will to flee,
No longer free.

I swung out in vain,
As they sucked my veins.
The excruciating pain,
Drove me insane.

And now I am in hell,
As far as one can tell.
I have no soul to sell,
Just a thirst to quell!

by Barry Mac Court 2007

Blood Stained

SoftParade

Dublin, Ireland

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 1

Artist's Description

A methaphor for pier pressure

Artwork Comments

  • Heidi Foreman
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