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Poetic T
Poems
Jun 2016
He Listened To The Bird Sing The Songs Of Hell
A smouldering apparition lingered on
his hand, it sang a song of torment
of souls devoured screaming out.
Melodies of convulsions lingered within
his surroundings, High Priests did
Sculpture upon his being, and he bled.
Deep did they desecrate his flesh, bleeding
any stagnant purity out. He gazed upon their
doing and listened that which perched on himself.
Written by
Poetic T
On Oblivions Doorstep
(On Oblivions Doorstep)
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Poetic T
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