Beelzebub

On an obscure island fell a plane
And spilled forth its hapless survivors
Young boys of decent birth
And hitherto unburdened by worldly concerns
But young and hence impressionable

Alas! To their destiny’s woe
They chanced upon an occult conch
And fell prey to regression’s rage
That seeped through and sullied their souls
And into savages turned them

One does wonder the depth to which
The author delved to relay his intent
For today regression’s rage
Not requiring an author’s contrived world
Nor the occult powers of a conch
Invisible in form and subtle in nature
Does in our minds manifest

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s