Skip to main content
Year
A  howling rain that blotch upon my skin,
autumn rambler through that tangled leaf maze,
I am the deathly veined nightmare tomb,
whose dance macabre 
 ghost ridden blight,
a morose bell toll 
clatter eardrum jinx,
 black ink bead choker voodoo  last curtain,
light fusing blind host to nonexistence,
undertaker’s tool in morbid trade
Poetry Reading
Rating
No votes yet