My temples are that of blight and rust,
my land is everything the light dosent touch.
From the day we are born to the day we die,
we are rotting from inside out.
Candles burning till the wick is gone,
and it won't take long.
It's amazing how beautiful this state of decay has made you.
Skeletal form and hallowed eyes are perfection.
Pain etched in echoing haunting detail,
your body a canvas painted upon by devils.
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Author:
JunusScarin (
Offline) - Published: December 8th, 2016 21:21
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 28
Offline)
Comments1
Love the word choice and the order in any specific line, although some of the lines are a bit dissonant when put together.
To me anyway - a sucker for traditional rhyming schemes who never jumped on the prose or modern trains.
So dont take it personal.
Great job! : )
Hey thanks I appreciate the feedback.
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