A poison essence calms my dread.
As princes follow in soundless room.
What daemons pad, what pharaohs ghost?
I send my lyric unto the plague,
that in the morrow I shall host.
A reason to survive this tattooed wreck
The princess follows in darkling dress,
her silken loom.
"What reason do I in the morrow host?"
My learned, prophet's soul emotes.
No comments:
Post a Comment