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Scotch

Contributed by MrModest on Friday, 19th February 2010 @ 09:56:53 PM in AEST
Topic: abstract

Hardly the same as the boy hid beneath,
Broken wax candles hung from the wreaths,
Everyone shook hands with the devil today,
When the sky turns black the gods prey,

Reaching down with anger into the marshes,
The tearing off of flaccid and devouring them,
Weary are we that miss them,
weary are we that throw them into the pit.

Copyright © MrModest ... [ 2010-02-19 21:56:53]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Scotch (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Friday, 19th February 2010 @ 10:25:23 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Very Nice poem

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