In the flames of grief
where all is not as it seems
even wood doesn't burn
yet, from out of the ashes
evil smokes up a storm
and nothing around me
is familiar anymore
every grave represents death
the Angels they cry
on the cold gray stone beds
my heart now empty
my pulse still strong
yet no one to speak to
because they are all gone.
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Author:
Teddy.15 (
Offline) - Published: October 6th, 2026 00:14
- Comment from author about the poem: This could have been a Halloween treat 🤣
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 2
- In collections: My Raven Collection.
Offline)
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