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kweavePoems
The fog creeps Quietly over each Tomb The clouds covered Our moon Tonight, we are Different Wet leaves stick To our skin, we dance Softly over the Dead Jagged teeth Bring the untimely Demise Of a child We have become Different Knots on knots of Rope Hang from each Rotting branch New victims bring A gift each night You will never find Someone that cares For you more than I do.
0
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 5:32 PM UTC
Our Graveyard
The fog creeps Quietly over each Tomb The clouds covered Our moon Tonight, we are Different Wet leaves stick To our skin, we dance Softly over the Dead Jagged teeth Bring the untimely Demise Of a child We have become Different Knots on knots of Rope Hang from each Rotting branch New victims bring A gift each night You will never find Someone that cares For you more than I do.
#suicide#death#dark#night#graveyard#tombs
kweave
Written by
kweave
18
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 5:32 PM UTC
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