THE BOOK OF BLACK VEINS
A proximity reaction—
as I walked these dark halls,
a pull I felt in my chest,
spiritual hooks and chains.
On a pedestal it sits,
in a puddle of blood.
My eyes turn red,
the book bleeds between its covers.
The cut-away eye
and nose-socket portion of a skull
is bound there within,
small chains securing it to the cover.
My blood runs black within my veins,
my skin pales.
Within its pages
lay bare mankind’s mortality—
all its weaknesses,
all its futility.
©Itz_frost