The ghoul, he sits under the bridge
And awaits for his next victim
I had always seen him as a gentleman
Until I removed my glasses tinted with fiction
Sores on his head, angry gashes in his arms
No doubt from fighting his prey
He makes them cry and show their pain
Before letting them go on their way.
YOU ARE READING
The Valley of Unrest
PoetryThis collection of poetry will depict a hidden land of darkness and twisted reality. It may or may not have a moral or a point. I will do my best to entertain you and post frequently. Each chapter will be another element that roams or creates thi...
