Waves of Pestilence

Engulfed in waves of pestilence
That’s raining down upon me
Contagion and concupiscence
In lust that’s all around me

If everything I knew was ever
Turned into a play;
I’d leave the throttle open wide
And move to Santa Fe

And there, I’ll build a picket fence
Of biological defense
Whatever there might be expense
To live in my wan

Pallescense

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

5 thoughts on “Waves of Pestilence”

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