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Poem

The Composer That Impales The World
by FD F.D. Ravenskraft
with every tune that the melodies you play
that even the strings come to a commanding state 
the guitarist blends in his sins
Into the romantic begins. slowly he plays and grin.
the ladies fall down in a comatose
the lover of all lovers
undercover to watch him discover the madness of his extreme
Composing dreams, as it seems he's watched the world burns with love and hate. Everyone falls into a deep sleep never to awaken
tuning the tune of the romantic unsung gloom
that blooms the blossoms of his hands
the poetic storyteller walking in the fields unseen
but the front of a storm saw him
lusting over the calm nature of the grim,
he plays like he's making out with paradise himself
Without her to him. No one is.
he named his guitar after him
A Poem that spits the melodies
I see him sitting there on the fields of sand out of nowhere
as his last victim dies by his playing demise
a macabre that was robbed of itself
he plays on and on
the end of it all had just begun

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