My bones aching to them for no reason
My mind becoming a playground for treason
But this without witch craft nor devils lore
1..2..3 scowls out the door
Though some find it cool a form of beastialitity though legal
Those who think no priest of mine
A tired one is this inner beast of mine
YOU ARE READING
The dark ship of my mind
PoetryIt may be hard sailing; the wind so fierce you may wish there was none, its a good thing smooth seas didn't make a good sailer I may have no order none in a sense I may pull you under a sea so dark that even the bubbles supposedly going to the surf...
