deepundergroundpoetry.com
ink death
Deaths ink, black like the shadows in his soul
infect his blood with every he bring to life on the starch white paper.
ink reaching into his heart as he goes on, yet he continues to move his pen over the pad.
its tip leaving a trail of ink much like the jagged ,broken mirror that he held to
open veins watching the blood of ink that leaked on the paper
calling him to write more and more.
he watched with eyes frozen over by deaths chill
forever writing with the ink of his blood
words that must not be spoken
words that have been slated by his tongue
and lost among the corridors of his twisted mind.
the words are necromancer with deaths ink
reviving secrets once forgotten and thrown below the conscious
eternally writing his should and body intertwined with the ink
infect his blood with every he bring to life on the starch white paper.
ink reaching into his heart as he goes on, yet he continues to move his pen over the pad.
its tip leaving a trail of ink much like the jagged ,broken mirror that he held to
open veins watching the blood of ink that leaked on the paper
calling him to write more and more.
he watched with eyes frozen over by deaths chill
forever writing with the ink of his blood
words that must not be spoken
words that have been slated by his tongue
and lost among the corridors of his twisted mind.
the words are necromancer with deaths ink
reviving secrets once forgotten and thrown below the conscious
eternally writing his should and body intertwined with the ink
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