The moon was high
So was she.
The blade was sharp
Her thoughts were violent
She mimicked them.
The blood was fading.
So was she.
She felt her spirit
Go.
She was sleeping.
She never woke.
Even in death she was alone.
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
The moon was high
So was she.
The blade was sharp
Her thoughts were violent
She mimicked them.
The blood was fading.
So was she.
She felt her spirit
Go.
She was sleeping.
She never woke.
Even in death she was alone.