It drips.
Constantly dripping.
It pours once flesh rips.
Constantly ripping.
The red fluid.
The pain it brings.
Used by Druid.
Gathered by kings.
The old Norse.
Living in myth.
Red fluid from the source.
What stories are made with.
Animals reign.
Vikings fight.
All in pain.
This isn't right.
The fluid grows.
The bodies gather.
Nothing slows.
All is now blather.
YOU ARE READING
Stale Words
Poetry𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 is an ongoing book and collection of poems and sonnets made by me, inspired by my thoughts, dreams, and personal experiences. As someone who lives with depression and anxiety, a lot of my thoughts are bound to not be very pleas...
