![]() Spell PastelsA Poem by Perdition
There is a death sound
I hear it I speak it Jamaica weeps and soft cohesions crawl Hunters gather in the wet fresh daylight But I burn over burned love asleep And the wounds that gather Eventually gather me © 2015 Perdition |
Stats
226 Views
4 Reviews Shelved in 3 Libraries
Added on April 4, 2015Last Updated on April 5, 2015 Author![]() PerditionVAAboutIf I remain beyond the hour, I'll try and bring more, but more to the barrel of truth, as noble and silent as I can muster and for those who may not know, I chose long ago to use this name "Perdition".. more..Writing
|