In the breath of Bloodstained lips
Did he exhale upon pale fingertips.
And oh how they Judged his fragile Soul.
Unworthy
Unlovable
Cast down by toil.
And so he slew each one upon the moon's pale light.
An alter bathed in the blood of the night.
He cried out for Mercy's sake.
But his words unheeded, only the wind did take.
So the Story goes incomplete
Forever wandering in mystique.
Drawn in the Dark of Ancient Tongues.
Never be seen again or fall from Bloodstained lips be sung.
YOU ARE READING
Ripples in an Obsidian Sky
PoetryThese are many of the poems that get stuck in my head randomly, almost like a song or beat poetry in a way. I must warn you, most of them can be rather dark or sad. But I find solace in writing them. Anyway, maybe they can help you get some peace t...
