Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2014
Doors of skeletons
and closeted fears,
framed insecurities
warn down for years.
Beds of monsters,
talons in the dark,
creeping closer
making its mark.
Sluggish bodies and
pots gone stale,
moulding diseases,
where strong bodies fail.
Salivating hounds and
sharpening teeth,
kettle of fluids that
drink underneath.
Clusters of death
and moans of life,
try to escape but
Instead twist the knife.
The Black Raven
Written by
The Black Raven  Australia
Please log in to view and add comments on poems