autor:: Elendurwen

rubrika:: poezia

Creatures are crawling
From my bare-skin back
They're growing from me
Only space they lack

And they are hungry
To see what's out
And their irritating
Squeaking sound

Turns air into dust and
Makes all of us mad
Their every heartbeat
Makes us more dead

Their worm-like bodies
Are tearing my spine
And their perception
Is equal to mine

The sun's turning gray
And now it's too late
And there is no way
To hide from their hate

napísanísané:: 4.6.2008

prečítalo:: 795 ludí