I oft like to walketh past thy abode so that I may admire the threshold into which thee step.
The window from which thee behold and gently caress while leaning the sky.
The steps thee descend every morning and ascend every night after the day hath runneth its course.
Once, I wast fortuitous enough to catcheth a glimpse of a quite quaint piano sitting in the frontmost window.
I like to bethink that thee enjoy to touch its keys tenderly and oft.
And I can see the through yonder window.
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Poetry from the Abyss
PoesiaThis is just a compilation of all the poetry that I've written throughout the course of a few years. Feel free to read it, or don't. It's up to you.
