shadows hidden til the twilight hour open the gates to the nether world walk inbetween the realms of fire silent freedom in mystic rebirth
In the days I last laid eyes upon- In the nights I wept my tears on- The black that held my hand so tight- And the slice the made my wrist so bright.
This poem is in remembrance of this guy I met, cannot remember his name. There now, that is an insult. By far less repetitive and I even have a rift to go with it. I think I have seen mister twister around. Maybe he would like to see what I have done with it.
*This is a poem I wrote* A faery tale come to life, I fall through the glass window. I despair in this time. The maggots feeding on my soul. A gathering of innocence, locked away in a musty cellar. Jesus walks on water, drowning in the screams of terror. He rises again, to unmask the… Continue reading Glass Windows