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deadeadeadPoems
Plain n' simple true, Dread is wholesome and Speaks in quakes, here. For the Monster fear looms ever near. Slow it creeps, wagging tongue Dripping lies like maggots Spill from the bloated dead. Vigor and lust are well eaten And moths and dust are all That remain of 'love-making'. But tracing at first, golden At the very last glimpse. Wet eyes, hushed gripes at nothing: Behold, I'll march. I'll march well-receded upon The dusk. I'll march well-seeded Upon the morn'. I'll march well-sympathised Upon the wine-smooth caresses of dawn. For a ghost longing for death, I am What is plain. What is simple. What is True.
0
Dec 22, 2017
Dec 22, 2017 at 12:22 AM UTC
Plain, Simple & True
Plain n' simple true, Dread is wholesome and Speaks in quakes, here. For the Monster fear looms ever near. Slow it creeps, wagging tongue Dripping lies like maggots Spill from the bloated dead. Vigor and lust are well eaten And moths and dust are all That remain of 'love-making'. But tracing at first, golden At the very last glimpse. Wet eyes, hushed gripes at nothing: Behold, I'll march. I'll march well-receded upon The dusk. I'll march well-seeded Upon the morn'. I'll march well-sympathised Upon the wine-smooth caresses of dawn. For a ghost longing for death, I am What is plain. What is simple. What is True.
#pain#love#endurance#plain#simple#true#lies#fear#darkness
deadeadead
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deadeadead
19
Dec 22, 2017
Dec 22, 2017 at 12:22 AM UTC
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