A Writer's Wonderland [PDF] - University of Portsmouth

Beaten to Decadence
Joe Delarue
Third year Creative Writing and Film Studies
student.
Romantic men shudder with hunger and weep with fear,
As purity and truth are stolen by gold clad thieves,
Who toy with the angel faces of old,
As they sport a mask that should never have been touched.
Why must we go forwards when ground beneath never feels right?
A smack to the wrists and a stumble to the street,
Night screams for help,
Yet the sweet whispers and promises of a dusty tomorrow are fake.
And when the sun kisses concrete all will sing of the same,
The footprint engulfs the track as the mol-es-tation,
Of the unknown copulates with the known and sweats down,
To drench the feet of those who barely realise they are alive.
Harmonic sirens call for martyrs,
To float to another being and peak over the shore of a final breath,
Yet they refuse the other side and sit secluded,
With ankles dripping of what could have transpired,
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