Dinner Party of the Dead

Smoke in their eyes
A silver glint in the wine
She’s serving scallops, salad, and strychnine
Bittersweet platter of petite deceits

The dinner party’s dead

“What’s your poison?” Said Death’s-head
Atramentous wings shed a decaying scent
The Reaper fed

Posted by

Grew up in the Essex countryside and currently resides in London. Passing through his 30s far too quickly. Likes: writing, design, the arts, and copious amounts of coffee. He is working on his first novel.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.