deepundergroundpoetry.com
The storm
The storm is lose abound my blood it singing my holy grave. The peace that once was made is gone to hell It now time to weep what your sow, through your future i will be seeing you around. The red rose blood flowing around the people of now poisoning them till they reach there own vows. I sing this here and now "ones a day come to an end the light will slow and night will grasp the one who laughs last."
Published 13th May 2016
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