The Bound

Tue, 07/01/2014 - 09:49 -- Markus


In the vast, eery wilderness,

Of deceit and sorrow,

Lay the degenerate hollow men,

Putrid, and banished from their minds.


Cries be heard, but to no avail,

Rotten flesh be seen, but to no mercy.

“Gods forgive! How can this be?

Cleanse my soul, and set me free!”


They lurch in cohorts, prowling the land,

In the search for a latent escape.

Yet already the madness is manifested within,

By disposition, they are akin.


Sing together, thou hollow men,

Form the chorus of the undead.

Pray, sing to me thou hollow men,

Amuse me, till I have bled.



This is the first poem I have posted online, and one of the first I have seriously written. There are noticable flaws. However, I will refrain from pin-pointing them to see if anyone else can identify them. Thank you for reading.



"Scowling" should be replaced by "prowling".

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