Poems from schnoseb
Benjamin P.S. is a being of immense integrity, habitually semi-boisterous, sans ostentatiousness, and sibling to seven. He is skilled in the art of art, melodic and harmonious in music. Seldom garrulous; it is somewhat a rarity for this bizarre being to be heard uttering anything auxiliary a grunt. This individual has a great extent of outlandish schemes being administrated in his psyche; but you only see the translucent structure, you encompass a diminutive amount of his true form- only some is illuminated within your perception.
This is a poem,
If you couldn’t tell.
I’m really just bored,
But I think it’s swell.
It’s nine forty,
Give or take a bunch.
I couldn’t...
Concealed in murkiness and gloom,
Cloaked by shadows of night,
Unknowingly hidden in the tomb,
The Shade prepares Its flight.
The list has...
I don’t know how long I can keep doing this.
It’s been a year it feels like a week.
I just don’t know how I’d begin to speak,
I know there...
Dark as the sun
Comes the man not from earth,
So good he is evil,
Through death came his birth.
He takes through his gifts.
His love’s...
Apple blossoms grow
Bright, beautiful and cheery
Dies withered and bleak