A black is the dust, abyss that’s dusk.
The man that’s the prison, the sentence he serves,
Emotions and the siren’s they with change,
A life that has been true, now no longer remains,
In plea of sanity, in the plummets of a sane!
The hounds and the howls, the lost and the ghoul,
In waged a war, the heroes were never found,
The treasured a cut, the muted their blood.
Wit sprinkled a hat, the head lost in a girls rack,
In stories that float the reverie of a Soothsayer,
Frisks of touch and the lasting that remains,
In plea of sanity, in the plummets of a sane!
Wiccan and in the light of that smile,
My trouble manifested their after-life.
A savant’s rant & the grimaces, its lament,
Queasy this wearied everybody’s life..
Crumbles the wall, numbered their fall,
Even the cursed have lived where it all,
In plea of sanity, in the plummets of a sane!
No comments:
Post a Comment