I was walking home after dark,
I went through a graveyard called the park...
Poetry is art for the insane.
A minor keyed melody...
This is one of my older poems, so I apologize if...
Why must it end this way...
Thine wings of ash
Thy hair of flame...
Welcome to my walk-in closet,
where the aroma reeks of rotting flesh...
She pushes away anyone
who tires to care...
As the doors slams shut
i get left in darkness...
Oh love, they sealed you underground
then wailed beside me all the day...
They scream freak.
They sneer at my clothes...
I sit.
As these demons surround me...
I sit here waiting for the end
As it creeps closer and closer...
If you look inside me
You won't find anything...