The day is rumored past as an unspoken curse.
And it should stay that way, for knowing is far worse.
The witch is foul mind the silent menacing threat.
"Do you was she says or the nights end is in death"
My parents had asked, if something was wrong.
My answer left the bitter taste of a lie on my tongue.
I walked to the graveyard, to pay off my debt.
The cold crisp air whispered and seemingly said:
" you've dug yourself deep, the witch is your queen.
Victory is but, a taunting midnight dream."
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryThe poems that I'm most proud of. Feel free to use them in your stories if you think they'd fit. (As long as you give a shout-out, I appreciate you giving my book a chance. ❤️ 😊 )
