Swallowing up the corpses
An appetite of doom
Many a meaty courses
Made my gut a tomb

I devoured moms and babies
My hunger near a rage
Down to Davy's Locker
The bars of my ribcage

My swollen putrid innards
Filled with fish and foul
And beastly guts and gizzards
That rot within my bowls 

Grinning over my plate
With a leg bone in my hand
Like a grim reaper of fate
To the creatures of the land

Maybe there is a paradise 
For those creatures of misery
Whose terrified pair-of-eyes
Hauntingly, live-on in me

Read More in Bryant's Book or Collection:

• Collected Works of Poetry, Photography and Art