Scratches groove deep in my dry thicket,
The knocking never, never stops.
They'll break it all down before they let you go free, child.
Claws beg sweetness at the door;
There's strength in resistance,
But they'll find none of that here.
The broken vessel can give you nothing,
Her lily white treasures plundered in the dark,
Long, long ago.
There once was moonlight,
And radiant lips now chapped,
By sultry sweet seduction.
It's all gone now -
Only knocking left.
YOU ARE READING
Narcissist
PoetryI write poems so that you might like me. // Insomnia induced poetry.
