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 Mar 2016 dead0phelia
Emre Fatih
i feel the blue
of the grass
the orange
of the skies
love
it's all gray
like a glue
and it ties

my brain
made with rusty brass
hugs with a lie
on the floor they lie
beside
they're in the same tray
poor mama saw that
then she sighed and cried

night
and day
magical play
darkness of the green
painful it has been
i have no'n to pay
to pass trough the gate
and there'll always be
so grief miseries
or paths of thorns
with bloomed claries

horns
white manes
wings of unicorns
teardrop rains
ocean's pink
the reaper winks
soul is borne
by crimson veins

gold berry teas
in the final peace
we'll be all gone
without worn bones
but the words of saints
say stick and stones

and teardrop rains
the kooky clock warns
 Mar 2016 dead0phelia
J
Your insides are crawling
Singing hymns of horror stories
Shrills of purgatory

Ghastly visions of the darkest memories that haunt your mind;

Her slender fingers
And chestnut eyes

The emptiness of her lungs and fullness of her palms

Mounted on the curtains of your eyelids

— The End —