Wither

A poem. By me.

Wither with her
Within her blister,
The silent walls
Scream down in pain,
Keep her warm;
Its going to rain.

Your sight is tight
Hemmed in by plight,
Sleep away
Your nighmares fast,
Hold her well;
Shes not yet passed.

Sleeper weep her
Eyes are deeper,
Wash away
The ebbing tides,
Dry her cheek;
Behind she hides.

The bait she ate
Satiate the gate,
Eyes open wide
To all your fears,
She drinks away
Your heart filled tears.