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Rated: E · Poetry · Gothic · #1286465
A poem. By me.
Wither with her
Within her blister,
The silent walls
Scream down in pain,
Keep her warm;
Its going to rain.

Your sight is tight
Hemmed in by plight,
Sleep away
Your nighmares fast,
Hold her well;
Shes not yet passed.

Sleeper weep her
Eyes are deeper,
Wash away
The ebbing tides,
Dry her cheek;
Behind she hides.

The bait she ate
Satiate the gate,
Eyes open wide
To all your fears,
She drinks away
Your heart filled tears.
© Copyright 2007 Dremrae (dremrae at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1286465-Wither