Walls of the manor ,
cold desolate crusts of darkness ,
scorching crumbles of death
ravished by starving vultures.
An icy giggle pierces through
from the withered hemlock outside.
For a moment , the night glows blue
and the owls rush to hide.
Roots of the hemlock ,
dry ropes of hanging skeletons ,
of horrid ancient bones
and rotten flesh at the sole.
A horrible thud of crashing mound,
pillars upon pillars loudly fell.
Screams and shrieks the only sound
for the tragedy that befell.
Walls of the manor ,
falling and crashing in madness.
It glows in icy giggles,
and in ancestral blood structures.
YOU ARE READING
MELLIFLUOUS
Poetry** A poetry collection ** Best Ranking : #1 in Poetry -- 21/06/2022
