Arpia's Poetry

UNBELIEVERS

 

She was the dream of the unbelievers

The whip, the flesh, your brains washed in her soul

Nightmares coming fast

Wake at night, no more sleep

No more lies, no crying, never being

Silently awake for the dream that is to be

Unbelievers, come to me

Wash your souls

Or never be...

 

1995

 

 

Arpia's Poetry