Tuesday, August 4, 2009

My Goth Poem

Around, all around, the storm clouds gather.

My dread grows as the dagger of your words falls against my heart.

It wounds me, and darkly my essence drips to the wicked earth that is my prison.

In horror I hang my head while Death's shadow surrounds me.

Now alone, my cascade of tears falls from uncaring eyes.

This is my Hell.

1 comment: