There was once a soul
beneath my poisoned flesh.
It's long been purged away
by brewing concoctions
of mad chemists
that turned my moon full,
stuffing me whole
with lycanthropic lust.
My eyes now brew
in a different shade,
scanning the world anew,
enlightened, unfiltered
by heretic notions of a soul.
1 comments:
I'm not sure if this is in a form, but it reads like it is. I admire that. The language is sharp here and I like the use of alliteration and repetition of sounds because they contribute to the tragic overtone of the poem. I really enjoy the way you explore the science vs. religion idea here, but oh so softly, it's just right.
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