One Poem by Rosamund McCullain

The Second Coming

I am the rough beast slouching towards Bethlehem,
Slow limbs of stone, stone soul, dragging behind me
An evil so profane it confounds profanity,
Laughs in the face of sanity, mere anarchy,
The worst of the worst, as dark as human gets,
Carried in my heart and gut across all time,
Even eternity cannot erase the scars or bleed the poison,
An eternity of agony, twisting, writhing, seething guts
Alive with something born of evil, yet at the same time
Dead and decomposing.

A thousand years can’t wash this away, a thousand tears in which to
Drown, to take the last gasp for which she yearns, begs
For some rest, some relief, but still it marches on,
Pitiless as the sun and she is turned to dust,
Consumed by flames of hell and all she is and was and ever will be
Just ashes in the wind.


Originally from West Yorkshire, Rosamund came to Mid-Wales in 1983 to study English at Aberystwyth University. She fell in love with the Mid-Wales region, and has lived in the area ever since. She moved to North Powys in 1998, where she is now very well settled.

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