Shot down like a deer in the dark
lying dead, the wound soon a door
for dirt dwellers, bugs, birds and boars,
to feed on my dull, rancid carcass
my soul delves deep in the core.
Strange calls in the night songs unsoothing the soul the place where the gods had left I had arrived I was done, so done I was ready, at l...
No comments:
Post a Comment
Avis sur la chose en question
Feedback on the thing in question