Bone Chillers

The Misery

It happened a priori

The misery

You don't need to see. 

See what's wrong with me.

You don't need witness death, 

death is eternal listlessness.

A penchant towards hunger pangs, 

draining bodies from their very veins. 

No one complains post mortem... 

Created by the doom keepers in your room.

My nemesis, rarely reveals itself,

his tope, drowns blood sinew and health, 

built upon the shadow of the gates. 

The angels that fell too late. 

Summoning a continual thirst in a dry town, 

providing hope to the underground. 

His sole disposition towards fortified wine, 

the blood of spine, 

corpse crust, 

and all that turns to dust.