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(3)
by James
Rated: E · Poetry · Ghost · #1420213
A poem of the supernatural that creates a sad haze over the mind.
Them

  I                                                                II
Haze                                                        Haze
                                                              It is my shroud
Death                                                      Death
Hath we stricken
We                                                          We
                                                                The essence of
Life                                                          Life
With out form
Blood                                                        Blood
                                                                Moves like creeks in dessert
                                                                Sin
Sin
Goes without chastise
As we wait                                                As we wait
                                                                Lost between worlds







































© Copyright 2008 James (thephilosopher at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1420213-Them