by Unknown
Sep 2012 286 Views 2 comments
Among the Solemn
In the dark,
she cries his name.
When they're apart,
it's not the same.
She is lonely.
She is sad.
Among unholy,
she's getting mad.
Being alone,
is half the problem.
Where's the sword?
Among the solemn.
Now she cries,
as he dies.
she cries his name.
When they're apart,
it's not the same.
She is lonely.
She is sad.
Among unholy,
she's getting mad.
Being alone,
is half the problem.
Where's the sword?
Among the solemn.
Now she cries,
as he dies.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2012
About this poem:
I wrote this years ago, when life was at a low.Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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Ancient Bullman