Savagely hunted this feral beast is
by phantoms of perception.
Ravaged cognition and aid of nowise,
a nightmarish introspection.
This beast she sit and rap till Aurora
pass in routine fashion,
but this morn she could not pass remoras
descent beyond all ration.
The architect of her doom
howls at the flourescent moon.
Howl
Howl
Howl
Howl at the flourescent moon.
Howl
Howl
Howl
Howl along in perfect tune.
Howl
Howl
Howl
Howl at the flourescent moon.
Howl
Howl
Howl
Till your throat is all but hewn.
Howl
Howl
Howl
Howl at the flourescent moon.
Howl
Howl
Howl
Till she rest in vacant room.
About the Creator
Elias Way
I write stories for you to read :)
Dead and Wearing Green
She was wearing that green dress when I first saw her, five years ago to the day. Flowing meadow fabric draped over long legs, thick auburn hair flowing down her back. That smile. Of course, she is still beautiful now. But now she is no longer alive.
By Karen Cave5 days ago in Fiction
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