I stand at the door of endless decay
And feel the wave of dread wash over me
Like the veil of a sorrowful widow in dismay
When will she collect me
I had not been so sure to wish for it
Yet I yearn for the quietude it brings
-
Author:
SpiceNoodles (
Offline) - Published: October 1st, 2020 22:35
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 26
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.