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Mar 2019
Scared I was
Whenever you’ll pass.
How I shiver from your touch
Afraid to be on your clutch.

Bony fingers,
Please don’t linger.
Alone, you are
Make sure to stay afar.

You don’t give you take.
Leaving us with an ache.
You listen to their last breath.
Before taking them to death.

I loathed you,
I know you knew.
Yet I learned,
The beauty of being burned.

You leave scars not on the skin but in hearts
No one did understand your eccentric arts.
But I did in someways,
Understood your plays.

Took away the pain you did
And in return, souls were rid.
Empty shells were left at the bed,
Making us grieve and mourn the dead.
Flor
Written by
Flor  F
(F)   
205
     Thomas W Case, -JCM- and Pagan Paul
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