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Howling to the werewolf moon The only light I've shed Upon my corpse bride's runaway And zombies that I've fled Running from vampiric tongues That licked their lips and said Forget me not the wicked witches' Poisons that you've bled Or Frankenstein creations Of the afterlives you've led And cemeteries searching for A place to rest your head Dressed in black the pallbearers Of caskets that you dread All manner of these elegies You wrote when you were dead Have ever been the only hands To tuck you into bed
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Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 1:39 AM UTC
Spooky Stories
Howling to the werewolf moon The only light I've shed Upon my corpse bride's runaway And zombies that I've fled Running from vampiric tongues That licked their lips and said Forget me not the wicked witches' Poisons that you've bled Or Frankenstein creations Of the afterlives you've led And cemeteries searching for A place to rest your head Dressed in black the pallbearers Of caskets that you dread All manner of these elegies You wrote when you were dead Have ever been the only hands To tuck you into bed
michael-marchese
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Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 1:39 AM UTC
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