Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2019
Where will you go when the music ends?
When the time comes to make amends
Or be bound to earth by chains of vice
Far below the sky’s burning ice?
Breath be the warden of this madhouse
Guarding against the eternal spouse
Of fear, descendant of night.
Only after you sleep can all be made right.
Hannah Marr
Written by
Hannah Marr  19/F/Canada
Please log in to view and add comments on poems