Tangle
by erikash03
Tangle
The tangled, wet mass
flops and entwines
between the orderly streams of metal.
It scratches the muck
that replicates against the wave of destruction.
Like a harsh fiddle,
it vomits in alleys of disinfectant.
In its hatred
it screamed and tore
all of the fabrics
which had so tenderly needled it.
Wow, so real – i was right in it, tangled up and stinking
Thanks for the compliment!