Les fleurs du mal
God lay dead in heaven Angels sang the hymn of the end Purple winds went moaning Their wings drip-dripping With blood That fell upon the earth It, groaning thing Turned black and sank Then from the far caverns Of dead sins Came monsters, livid with desire They fought Wrangled over the world A morsel But of all sadness this was sad A woman's arms tried to shield The head of a sleeping man From the jaws of the final beast
Submitted by Warbringer — Jul 01, 2026
My childhood was nought but a ravaging storm Enlivened at times by a brilliant sun The rain and the winds wrought such havoc and harm That of buds on my plot there remains hardly one Behold now the fall of ideas I have reached And the shovel and rake one must therefore resume In collecting the turf, inundated and breached Where the waters dug trenches as deep as a tomb And yet these new blossoms, for which I craved Will they find in this earth, like a shore that is laved The mystical fuel which vigour imparts? Oh misery! Time devours our lives And the enemy black, which consumeth our hearts On the blood of our bodies, increases and thrives!
Submitted by Warbringer — Jul 01, 2026
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