Souvenir, a poem by CJ Foster at



written by: CJ Foster


Sticks and stones
Built my throne
The moat filled
With my tears

The blood enticed
By knives that sliced
Now oils the
Drawbridge gears

Vile perversion
Beautified by conversion
Into stained glass
Obstructing leers

All ghosts awoken
By dreams broken
Mortaring brick walls

Posted signs
Obscured by vines
A warning to
Stear clear

It isn’t my fault
They failed to halt
No instincts
And so cavalier

The fireplace stoked
On ashes they choked
Leaving trails
Of bloody-lunged smears

Heads roll, oops
When the pendulum swoops
No one ever veers

Bursting into bits
When falling bodies hit
That cliff really
Is quite sheer

All brains are for naught
After my double-aught
Never look down
A barrel my dear

Now the garden abounds
With curious mounds
Old foes
Turned souvenirs

Lucky are the entombed
The rest truly doomed
For torture is my
New found career

Their malicious script
I expertly flipped
As this All Hallows Eve
I’m the puppeteer

For those most deserving
I’ll dish up a serving
Of their deepest
Most primal fears

Where in my cathedral
A dungeon medieval
They’ll be fed
The rest of their years

Their lives stolen
Left bruised and swollen
Makes my cold
Heart cheer

Manacles clank
As they rot in the dank
Think they can
Hear my jeers?

For their moans and calls
Echoing down the halls
Are music
To my ears

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