Body wrought chasm of derelict error
Pitch black prism of deranged terror
Memory lapsed transference of sooty bereavement
Satanic messenger sent to gift mind’s diseased rent
Spiked baseboards; impale my misty soul
My flooded heart drowns; sheathed knoll
Salty tears cause the flood to score festering wounds
Wasted prayers castigate and reflect forgotten tombs
Deep divers cost of treasure troves entry
Lost are honorifics of the dubious gentry
I love the voided suffering of gnostic’s nil perch
It all signifies and justifies my tortured lurch
Knee to chest, turmoil’s closed casket of regress
Depressed to flesh, warband scalping innate tress
Held to press, a nuptial cloaked ingest
Detest, a vehement crucifixion’s behest
Choke out all of pleasures, phallic, porridge
Shatter all mirroring, malignant, mooring
Breath in the tender lines of peaceful shoring
Accept the body as a member of triune glory
Justin Ratcliff is a new emerging poet, who was cast into the depths of himself during the Covid-19 outbreak. Born, raised, and still preceding in South Central Alaska. Draws much of his inspirations from psychology, philosophy, theology, nature, and dark fantasy.