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Rated: E · Poetry · Ghost · #2133391
A poem of the dead by the undead
I saw him rise from his bed
On my midnight stroll through the dead
He rose like the leaves in an Autumn wind
Shadows of beasts and famous kings
Another prince whose now nothing

Another day has come to past
I can smell the dead
I can sense their unwilling fast
I know I still live for now
But I assure you it won't last

As pale as the rising moon
Smoked with clouds of puffy pasts
To the Life of Death I can't contrast
With undead skin I live to see
The sun again and a midnight feast

But every night I sleep in fear
Death may choke my life in my sleep
For even though in Light I walk and lumber
At night Death will one day
Put me to his slumber

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