Gutter Song
A drip from the gutter to sound out the calling,Storm clouds rolling, yet stalling...
Drenched in thier weight till no more may be fed,
rolling thoughts begin to fill my head...
Life, once lived is better not said...
Life, once lived is better off dead...
Pools of the earth's blood form on the ground beneth my fingertips,
its droplets corse down my arms in veins of cold water,
around my eyes and over my lips, soaked in its sin
I'll be a better son to you father, if you'll begin again.
Poetry by NamFoNos
Read 687 times
Written on 2005-08-02 at 08:00
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