Witherers

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: November 05, 2018

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Submitted: November 05, 2018

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Witherers 

A red moon rises 

as the bells awaken the dead

Cold blood entices

the graveyards sled.

 

In our path, the roses wither

Our scourge reaped all bright life

Any life we tread upon rots.

Blue eyes, blue blood, of a mangled carcass.

 

It is already within our hearts

to make all bright sparks fade

Envy drives us to crush what we cannot have

Of our former selves, we are but a shade. 

 

Our crackling bones 

force us forth

to take a bite 

of breathfilled cones

 

 

A fleshclenched bite 

turns veins grey.

just like our heart

that did decay.

soon although

no one will pray

As we force our way

to cause dismay.

 

The world can rot

for all it's worth

It's what we sought

return to earth

 

Once you shatter their hearts

only bones and flesh remains.

 

There is no beauty, 

there is no purpose

 

when we forsake what sparks bright life

All that awaits, is a solemn death.


© Copyright 2018 M.D Knightley. All rights reserved.

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