Death invits me for a cup of coffin,
end has a soft touch of satin...
Shabaalic black hag,
my head full of ragbag,
I am your shamefool,
decayed queen of amour...
Gi'me a kiss of fate,
eternity charity taste ...
Lady early mouning into femme fatale
trendy for the sepulchral ball ...
cursed poet begging nursery rhythm,
you lost you shadow,
rope of shagreen rhymes
to extinct your solo ...
Just dried fish game ,
illusions of fame...
Doors open to hellswhere,
dark sabbath slumber ...
- Author: lorenz (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: September 23rd, 2023 04:34
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
Comments1
Caravaggio would approve this page
as do I, dear Poet
a little noir release never hurt, those
true to themselves
Carravaggio and Edgar poe ,welcome to the dark sabbath supper !
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.