In the graveyard of lights the raven enjoy
the silence of lost and damned souls,
tormented from the pain of the guilt-feelings-whip
So they remain silent, walked by fear of the consuming darkness
The only word s a l v a t i o n tattooed on their foreheads
For sure it's going to accomplish one day,
the mangy dreams of ending existence
But mangy worms already perforate their mangy remains
And all that stays are skulls and dead looks, the odour that adheres like the mucosa itself and the scream that haunts from your birth till the bitter end
Because screaming is the only useful thing in this mute, bleak graveyard-world
I WANT TO BE HEARD
B.A.
YOU ARE READING
A Bleak Puddle
PoetryStories, my heart tells camouflaged as poems Maybe you somehow understand And I hope you get inspired Or that you feel understood And that I can possibly save you Or that I get to help you in any other way B.A.
