Betrayal 
 
 
From the dead, 
From the dry tomb of cant,  
From the brittle stem of treason, 
He tastes his friend’s betrayal; 
His lips split, 
His mind askew, 
He vomits his stinking bile. 
Yet; 
His still but glowing embers linger on. 


 
 
Jack Grantham_Harpoon