Oct 2017
We are the myth that stalks the night,
We are the liars that tread the halls.
Weak men buried deep below,
Secrets hidden in coffin walls.
Never will our songs be sung,
No crowns will grace our head,
No one will ever cry for us,
Because no one loves the dead.
We are the liars that tread the halls.
Weak men buried deep below,
Secrets hidden in coffin walls.
Never will our songs be sung,
No crowns will grace our head,
No one will ever cry for us,
Because no one loves the dead.
start of a series where I write poems based on different archetypes, totally open to requests :)
