The dark slides in a feral tide
It cracks my ribs and worms inside
Thoughts like teeth gnash at my bones
A choir of ash, a crown of stones
No breath no break just endless fall
Scraping nails along the wall
I rot beneath my own cruel skies
Buried alive behind my eyes
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Author:
R.W (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 7th, 2025 10:50
- Category: Gothic
- Views: 2
Offline)
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