Grievances

Grievances float about the twisted vines
Swirling in a mist of misgivings.
Fireflies burn and stab my eyes
While the tears land with sparks upon iron.

Drop your hammer, undead misdemeanor
And grasp that anvil solid held
Pulling your face in fearsome symphony
Upon that iron surface, a cacophony.

Raining red fluid flung
Teeth streaming to the ground
Mush sinking upon your face
Into a skull battered song.

Hair in sparkling contrast
To the gleam of the anvil drowned
In softly dripping harmony
A face rises no longer grave.

You smile now, in no pain.
Those felt feelings dropped
No more awful disdain
For grievances of life’s faults.