Dried rose petals on the floor
The blood gushing from the door
Skin and bones still sore
Day and day are bore
Heads ringing
Like a telephone in a red evening
Soul swooning
The devils are dancing
Soul rising
Bloody mirror on sight
Bloody noon all night
Bloody moon say goodbye
Ready all your candles for the soul's night
YOU ARE READING
THE CLOUDWALKER
Poetry𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 (𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗟𝗜𝗖𝗜𝗧) - Living in my own words is better than to suffer your world. "THE CLOUDWALKER" is a collection of poems about the feeling of not belonging to the world, feeling of being trapped in the past, presen...
