Grim

July 14, 2019

An air of melancholy surrounded Him,
    And a young soul filled with life,
    But a complicated tale of woe with Grim,
    That tends to those always in strife.

Dark angel looking for a soul to devour,
    But with a heart that gives more than she can take.
    Alas, here comes the young soul's final hour,
    Or a story of loneliness, regret, and ache.

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Comments (1)

Angela-MarJul 15, 2019

<div>Gliding through the still of air, madeth no sound,</div><div>Mistress of thy lady body and being, stoodeth like monolith.<br />Searching the ghostly regiments that I hath found.<br />Standing, thy lady turned to visage upon the myth.</div><div> </div><div>The touch of dew, the drive of air --</div><div>Glide among the dim processions<br />Of the exquisite unblest, maiden so fair;</div><div>The nymph of mine transgressions.</div><div> </div><div>Roam with mine matriarch, Persephone.<br />Plucking poppies for thy future slumber,<br />With the stolen morrow, thither shalt beest,<br />One more wraith among thy number.</div><p> </p>