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Dead Pool

A table with books of poetry for sale.

Decaying bodies mourn your soul,

Deadly like the mortal sin you taste.

Into quivering nights you shall not awake,

Until the fires of words lash out.

Deadly weapons wound your heart,

Punctured to the deadliest knife drawn.

Lay with eyes rolled back in your head,

Only but the sound of the dead pool you leave.

Time surpasses the nights fall before you,

A shout no one hears amongst the graveyards.

Cold winds pass your tomb where you lay,

Alone ghosts quiver as your grounds move.

Slumber not where your head does rest,

Tales unbroken by silent hush of meaningless thoughts.

Words once spoken crushed to the rivers below,

Forsakeningly cradled into the dead pool.

So cast not the wind by your side tonight,

Where splattered images of your blood wound hands.

Smear across cool dark pavements alone,

I greet thee in the womb of the deadly pool of blood.


  • Author: Marianne Trox
  • Age Rating:
  • Category: Uncategorized
  • Views: 41
  • Date Published: