The townspeople gather 'round
this filthy street with nothing on their feet.
Silent nature of this procession
keeps a leash on the tongue of this confession.
Ravens and crows lead the way
to the gates of the final resting place.
And their stares linger close behind
they'll say that this is the curse of mankind.
May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 3:12 AM UTC
The townspeople gather 'round
this filthy street with nothing on their feet.
Silent nature of this procession
keeps a leash on the tongue of this confession.
Ravens and crows lead the way
to the gates of the final resting place.
And their stares linger close behind
they'll say that this is the curse of mankind.
Request permission to use this poem