All of hell is wrapped in ice
And lodged in our throats.
Sibilating we die, pale and
Cold like a thin rain that
Washes blood from
The summer fields.
Cacophony. A thousand
Shrieking crows produce
Our crepuscular sky.
We suffocate under this Stygian
Blanket, like a naked, stillborn
Fetus on the winter road.
Train me to walk; Stand my
Splintered feet On the fraying rope
- And watch me go.
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 7:30 PM UTC
All of hell is wrapped in ice
And lodged in our throats.
Sibilating we die, pale and
Cold like a thin rain that
Washes blood from
The summer fields.
Cacophony. A thousand
Shrieking crows produce
Our crepuscular sky.
We suffocate under this Stygian
Blanket, like a naked, stillborn
Fetus on the winter road.
Train me to walk; Stand my
Splintered feet On the fraying rope
- And watch me go.
