Blight

A trickling valve reverberates

As a November chill sneaks about

Crushed glass cuts open your bare feet

There’s burning from within

It transmits from your esophagus

And escapes your perjurer’s lips

Torn from the abdomen

A festering, gaping pit

Where worms prosper

Where your heart was once set

Now is inhabited by the festering

And the once venerable worm becomes a blight

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