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The dreary be damned
There here lies a grave
Where evil creatures squrim with delight
There are seething monsters hearing and seaching so carelessly
She waltzes in beauty like the night so bloodlessly … so mindlessly sinless
Awoken by a constant dripping sound
But she-so soft, so calm, yet eloquent
Here comes the water
We all know your secrets
it comes to wash away the sins so murderously split
Not dead am I: of done deeds
Splattered it is on a shallow grave
The dripping still
Continues
In the dead of night
A clean tomb lays, once beautiful with the sublimest sculptures,
But now fallen into
great decay
Skin rots like it foolishly does so
Fear now spluttered so cruelly even the boldest men may feel
It this pleasure to you?
Flashbacks of dancing shadowy grins
Born in blood in every single time
Drip, Drip, Drip, and Drip
Something horrible, an atrocious sensation, a sort of decomposition of the soul,
a terrible spasm of brain and heart,
the very memory
which brings a shudder of anguish
In a silent graveyard
Under abnormal conditions,
under certain mysterious influences
in the presence of vague peril do we all
sense like a ticklish finger against our covering wrappings
Like holy water
It only burns you faster than you'll ever dry
Dead am I not
. . . . . .
- by Supersweetcutebunny |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 05/25/2011 |
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- Title: She who Fears
- Artist: Supersweetcutebunny
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Description:
A poem I write one time ago.
- Date: 05/25/2011
- Tags: fear
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