Painted In Ashes Poem by BroKen FisT

Tormenting flames lick
the tender flesh of a throng
of bodies layed amist
a nomatic graveyard,
leaving only a trail of
ashes in its wake.
As searching eyes of
bewilderment follw
Drifting Death,
screams of agony are
heard fer miles upon miles.
Smoke filled skies
water and cloud up the eyes.
Dry tongues try in
a futile attempt to
moisten their
bleeding, cracked lips.
All the while they
crawl and claw at the dirt
till their nails break off,
dragging maggot ridden
limbs by their feeble
and weak arms.
The nimble Drifter
evades this
for He is the kreator
of this Khaos.
The Xtacie it brings
to His heart is
insatiable indeed.
He drags his black plague
across the wind swept lands
as if a dark cloud of
starving locusts were to
storm in a swarm
of gluttonous greed.
Crossed out is the world
by the wicked hand of
The Drifting Death.