"acherontic" poems
Empty, cold and bitter the darkness stares at the sitter.
The warm light hits one side of her cheek,
the air is bleak, it lacks, it is weak.
The flame of curiosity, compels her acherontic, gloomy spirit.
Although, facing the bright sight,
she's lingered with the somber lyric.
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 10:26 PM UTC