The Midnight Toll

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A dream lurking in the dark corners of my head. Respect the dead.

Submitted: March 31, 2007

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Submitted: March 31, 2007

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The clock strikes the midnight toll this eve
And another day prepares to die
In the darkened corridors of this old house
We dance around the seeds we've sewn
The roses and lilies to grow intertwined
Finding serenity in the moon
And it's wailing sorrow

The man in the top hat breaks his morbid gaze
To call out to his partner through the fog
And out of her satin daze
They dance the dark midnight's waltz
Inside the churchyard gates
He tastes her breast without shame
As they forget the ways of man

The clock strikes a minute past this eve
And a day desires life
Top hat and the satin mistress dance around the night
And the markers in the earth
Swaying with the moon among the somber stone
The larks take flight sensing the sun, a dark forewarning
And in the final throes of twilight upon her lips
He tipped his hat to her and said, "Good Mourning"


© Copyright 2018 Alekzandr Stalingrad. All rights reserved.

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