Magnolia’s Tombstone [A Maggot Favourite] by Ian Robert Potapoff Sinking back into my tombstone, Anticipating deaths voluptuous kiss, And without thought she tore the real from me, I became what was lost and found myself making a wish. This manifestation of personification, Sin was captured and placed into thy petals, The embodiment of an angel with shredded wings, Not even the undying are safe from my oceanic abyss. I embellished her passionless body, my Magnolia, So sophisticated buried six feet deep in solitude, Her velvet whispers play here in the gardens crisp air, The secrets dance through an eternity without care. Beauty bruises flowers as they grow from a carcass, That beloved angels wasted face, Soaked in disgrace and smothered by lies, Distant sounding cries make my ties to this dreamland. Sweet haunting voices still linger within my mind, Forcing truth unto me as my hatred of the filthy sinner Christ, Faith abandoned me before birth came unto this world, I was awoken from my cryptic sleep and realized how I died. The curse rode here on the wings of an angel, Through hells eternal darkening and into the sky, Up through the veils of death and into Heavens white, Our guardian of light was the bringer of fright. “What think does you, on this bridge of night..” Ian Robert Potapoff
