Magnetic Poetry #5

Unseen beauty moans over

a thousand empty graves.

The lonely shadow dreads

the midnight cloud alone.

A frantic storm screams

at the pale garden's soul.

Darkness whispers to death

"Watch out. I rose of the blood

of those who ache silently."

Crushed quick like mad,

the hot sun sweating,

the gray moon boiling,

a broken spirit beating

at the mist of unknown truth.

Fill me with music, my cry echoing

"I can mourn you and be cold,

yet drunk I believe it is a lie,

Death will lick us so."

3.26.17