Death {Short, and bitter}

By Markus Darkscribe

Is it really time to sleep forever?
The years went by too fast
I sense the dirt  hardening around my grave 
As I yearn for squandered futures passsed

Love and happiness, ambitions unforfilled
As the untrue gods spat upon my brow
My name etched upon a ice cold stone 
I dream wicked neath the willow's brough













 

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Copyright 2019 Markus Darkscribe
Published on Tuesday, October 1, 2019.     Filed under: "Depressed" and "Poetry"
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Comments on "Death {Short, and bitter}"

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  • Queazenart On Saturday, October 26, 2019, Queazenart (200)By person wrote:

    I like the grave imagery in this. Hardening dirt, ice cold stone. This is frigid.

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