Exiting the threshold of my land
Stepping on docks of bones
The storm clouds brewing ancient spells
While the sirens fury dons
The night had lost its charm and grace
Leaving behind a smoky trail
The dead sea submerged corpses new
While the gulls let out a wail
The crumbling soil beneath the foot
The graveyards opened wide
Marching past were white clad men
With reaper by their side
The mast was high, spirits were low
The captain steered the wheel
The hushed up noises silenced me
While the undead eyes i feeled
The roaring wind carried the woe
From the prior no man's land
And the sea would consume whatever was left
From the wrath of humans' hand
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Willful Verses
PoetryWords. Words are power, words are hope, words are comfort and words are strong. Specially when they are intertwined into beautiful strings of lines which weave into verses and ultimately gives us warmth in the form of a poem. Everyone has there un...
