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devon-bakerPoems
I'm not here, nor there, not truly tangibly anywhere. As transparency slithers about my veins, i'm  phantom, silent deathly. Eyes carry and lurch black holes to quicken about the pupils. It's the faceless death that paces about you, rests against your blooming breath sitting next to you. If I cradled the malfunctions, misplaced to mutilated insides about my criss crossed shoulders, wingless back of blades, death will but flutter in resemblance against my skulls frame. Transperce, unravel about the living, wings of dust reel, I phantom of deathly.... a faceless orphan forget me. Gods got no place for the dying ghostly.
0
Aug 28, 2011
Aug 28, 2011 at 12:20 AM UTC
Death's only Orphan
I'm not here, nor there, not truly tangibly anywhere. As transparency slithers about my veins, i'm  phantom, silent deathly. Eyes carry and lurch black holes to quicken about the pupils. It's the faceless death that paces about you, rests against your blooming breath sitting next to you. If I cradled the malfunctions, misplaced to mutilated insides about my criss crossed shoulders, wingless back of blades, death will but flutter in resemblance against my skulls frame. Transperce, unravel about the living, wings of dust reel, I phantom of deathly.... a faceless orphan forget me. Gods got no place for the dying ghostly.
devon-baker
Written by
devon-baker
American
Aug 28, 2011
Aug 28, 2011 at 12:20 AM UTC
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