On the fringes in space
lurk the watchers,
with a darkness like leprosy,
disfiguring in their wake.
Once exposed
to the evil
in their hearts,
there is no cure,
but abstinence.
And that kills the poet.
And when the poet dies,
the world loses
one more piece
of its soul.
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 11:20 PM UTC
On the fringes in space
lurk the watchers,
with a darkness like leprosy,
disfiguring in their wake.
Once exposed
to the evil
in their hearts,
there is no cure,
but abstinence.
And that kills the poet.
And when the poet dies,
the world loses
one more piece
of its soul.
Dark souls exist everywhere.
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