A Howling Cry - Poetry

Words
59
Reading
1 min
Listen
Play
7y

eea1a2.png

A longing to die,
A sweet escapre,
From all that's unreal,
Bound to burn the flesh.

If it was not,
Then move along to the end,
Right along,
Till it do come to an end.

Bury it under,
That wax candle,
That died too on the very same night,
For all wasn't about rainbows in the sky.

Photo Source

A Howling Cry - Poetry | Ecency