My room at the first house I rented with friends. Death was turned away at the door of that abode so often that he simply stopped visiting. However, I do believe that he then stole our mail frequently.
Tag Archives: Poetry
Hell Microcosm.
Stripped of elemental virtue bare anemic witheringdesolate spiritual wasteland this hue is doombirds only squawk endlessly no melody to thought everything crawlsnow halt and mimic deathskies of grinding metal empires snarling at this pause Do better shrieks the infinite. The limbless salute with vigor rivers never ran away until nowso rise the mud whose domainContinue reading “Hell Microcosm.”
