A Goblin's Dirge

Tears, cold tears, amid the rose’s thorns as weeping shadows dance o’er long cold bones crying in the clouds of sobbing dawns sobbing in the depth of unfilled holes the agony of ancient crying pipes scarred the weeping thoughts of cringing souls raindrops fell, as if by weeping angels shed chilled the crying moans of those not dead played sobbing taps upon uncovered heads and as the sobbing mourners slow withdrew the weeping raven mourners slowly flew crying, amid the rose’s thorns, cold tears ©7/25/2021 The Goblin’s Jewel Box 1 Poetry Contest