Killed by full moon (40)


I am a dying bride,

Filled up with pride.

Power of my soul,

Is the way you fall.

 

Naked, I lay awake,

In my sleep I brake,

Hoping for your sake,

My thoughts won’t

Keep me awake.

 

Say your prayer,

Hold that paper,

Keep it in your hand,

Save it for your band.

 

Waking me,

Shan’t fail,

Killing thee

Shall heal.

 

You killed your dreams in me.

Hung me in a tree,

Waited for full moon,

To come and shine. So soon?

 

As a new bride,

I collide,

Waiting aside,

Your chariot, my pride!

 

  

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About madRaluk

Seven downward slopes Seven bloodied hopes Seven are your burning fires Seven your desires....

Posted on 25 February 2012, in poezie. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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