deepundergroundpoetry.com
Hordes Of The Dead
In all those dreams ago
hearing echoes in my abode,
of a twilight addiction.
Trolling my identity
as the sun is laying low.
Raising hordes of the dead,
hanging out with a shadow,
with someone, I should know.
A mannequin devouring my soul
from a display window at Macy's
hearing echoes in my abode,
of a twilight addiction.
Trolling my identity
as the sun is laying low.
Raising hordes of the dead,
hanging out with a shadow,
with someone, I should know.
A mannequin devouring my soul
from a display window at Macy's
Published 30th May 2023
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