A work of ART

Cold chills from windowsills
Tapping and crying
To screaming and lying
The host has begun dying

Scratching and clawing
Upon deaths calling
Laying in bed
Then falling to death

Razor blades and steak knives
Touching my skin and making it strive
My hollow skin begins to bleed
While my arms begin to lean

Scars from bars
And light from stars
Darkness has arrived
And my life is getting deprived

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem