From the Universe, I call down a pox upon them.
Dirae with Furiae shall tear their poisonous skin
to feed comrade vultures sitting in shadows of guilt.
Curators of dire curses upon innocents, dealers of death cards,
may shepherds of fools find woeful futures haunted
by those who paid the greatest price to dance with fantasy and lies.
Look both ways seeking answers, but beware
gaps of darkness are where truth is hard and lies come easy.
Our Literary Journey 
Now that is how you curse another!
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Nothing like a little dire poetry for the weekend. Nice job.
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Is it wrong that I smile when I read your dark poetry? I think we must be kindred spirits👀 This poem is one of your best!
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Dear Bill,
By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes. Well written message from the dark side.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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hadn’t realized that the Dirae were the roman Furies. very cool poem. Wish they were real and invokable for some people.
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When you let out your demons, everyone can see them. The sun doesn’t seem to be shining anymore. 😦 But I still love the poem.
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