A/N: Written for the Batteships Challenge, I4 (miss) – Borgin and Burkes.


A Larger Poetry Collection
184. Borgin and Burkes

The darkness was like a gloomy veil that hid
the history of his spoils: showed only the gleaming
gold on top, polished for the false sun

That hung low, dancing enticingly
on a string, pulling in greedy hands
regardless of the dirt underneath
those nails…

Only from right at the back, inside a broken cupboard
could you make out the light
of disrepute.