My skin seeps red;
And the symphonies
of the dead
Fill my head
And fill me with dread.
And with that being said,
My reign is over.
You'll find me dead.
WTF was I even writing. I was just rhyming words all the whole time. Anyway . . . Enjoy.
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Dark Poetry
PoetryWar breaks out, Or so they shout. The odds of winning Are in doubt. We have no clue What the war is about, Yet we fight On and out. I'd like to get some stuff off of my chest. Some words I'd like to say. Some things I want to admit. All can be said...
