top of page
Cryptic
By: Stephanie MacDonald
​
A gash across my back,
my body now deformed.
I raise a hand up to my eye,
It is now an empty hole.
My fingers turn to serpents,
Feeling fire on my neck.
Shadow spirits all around me,
I am now a rotting wreck.
I feel myself now falling,
Becoming sick, I disappear.
Waking up upon a heat rock,
My snake skin begins to peel.
A demon stands before me,
Deep laughter fills the air.
Crushed beneath the weight
You find joy in my despair.
​
bottom of page