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Haydn Swan
Poems
Oct 2015
Old bones
Rickety old bones,
carrying my frame,
dragging my corpse,
around in the rain,
flickering candles
dance in the dark,
where ghostly whispers
alive you do hark,
through the shadows,
where people do sleep,
pray to your god,
your soul shall he keep.
something a little dark as Halloween approaches
Written by
Haydn Swan
Purgatory
(Purgatory)
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