I told them to stop yelling,
but they had to be so loud.
We walked along the graveyard
near the shore with no still sounds,
but I felt her shake shoulders-
Couldn't tell her it was me
who cut down the witty tree.
I hear them now, they're coming.
Distant distance dissipates!
The blood, the sweat falls from skies-
Euripides has landed!
No one seems to know quite why.
The blood, the sweat drips from grass
up towards the heavens' ass.
No stains on my new rug, please-
I said no stains on my rug!
No stains on the rug, are you
even listening to me?
You must relocate, they come!
YOU ARE READING
Incoherent Poetry from the Depths
Horror(The painting in the cover is by painter Nicola Samori) Do y'ever just wish to feel the chills of the ethereal down your spine? Have you wondered what life is like outside your material universe? Did you ever posit the idea, that a good bout of uns...
