With each passing grave
time warps unto itself
choking, clogging
memories of the undead
tainting every breathing second
of wretched guilt, unspoken vengeance
of choking regret, of the faded last words
to realise none too much matter
as the soul withers apart
So I've come up with something, let me know what you think people ;D
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Cadaver
PoesíaAs the colors ebb away, the unfeeling flinches, at the mercy of the dead #1 in poem [20/9/23] #2 in darkpoem [27/9/23]
