Time has brought me knocking your door
I come bearing gifts,
Seed of sorrow you sowed
I am the castaway,
Placenta entangled bars of hate
I'll consume your children and babies
Their flesh is my meal, their blood is my wine
Your tears are my water, your sorrow is my joy
Night mares upon night mares you will have
That's my celebration hour
Darkness is my daylight
And darkness is your worst hour
The joy of sorrow is your gift from me
The doom has come for you
You cast me out to mummies
Now I've come to reclaime my kingdom
For the covenant I took
The hollow at your backyard
Is the shallow of skeletons
For I am the wicked witch
The shadow of death.
Comments
It seems like...
you have the proper spirit! Just a few little things to maybe make this smoother.
Your tears [are] my water
The joy of sorrow is your gift from me. Delete the [s] from gift.
I'm thinking that I would ordinarily try to make you choose another word
than shallow, but for some reason, shallow seems to fit with the line before it.
Maybe because it reminds me of the many backyard pools, that are now covered
and awaiting the winter. I can picture skeletons hiding in the shallows
of one of those pools. All-in-all a good Halloween poem. ~ Geez.
.
Thank you
You always get me off the huck, thanks for noticing that for me
Thank you mark
Your comment means a lot to me .
I already
Drop a work about Halloween (the beach) is the title.