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Image for the poem Pretty Little Dead Girl

Pretty Little Dead Girl


She counted,
and waited,
for the first stars.
As dusk prevailed,
here comes,
the dark.

Lucid
dreamers,
putrid corpses.
chanting,
around white
roses.
As sunset closes,
the moonlight
imposes.

A petal
for each,
dispersing
in the air.
Rotting flesh,
torn clothes,
ran amok
every where.

Her voice
resonated hymns.
Which she sang,
out loud.
Hypnotically
psychotic,
mesmerizing
sounds.

Murmurs and
giggles,
ghost children
out of graves.
Ungrounded,
and released
in the dark
to play.

There's a ring
around the roses,
and she's in the
middle.
Making spirits
dance
in trance-like
rhythm.

Oh so pretty,
oh so bright,
they played hide
and seek,
deep into the
night.

What a nuisance
is time,
when she finally has
fun.
It went to quickly,
daylight's peeking,
here comes dawn.

She counted,
waited,
for the last stars.
With one last
giggle,
she awaits,
the next night's
dark.
[/font]
Written by PsychicApocalypse (Darker Half)
Published | Edited 7th Aug 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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