A Silent Death
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Murky thoughts within a silent night
Wind slapping the window panes
Clouds hovering over pending death
Soon to be out of breath
Ravens circle the next meal
It seems in the end I had some appeal
The lights were off long ago
A house of ghosts, to end this show
Decomposing in musical thought
In my chair, soon to rot
Who will care? I know most will not
In my darkness I am fraught
Now the graveyard holds all my thoughts
Copyright © Arthur Vaso | Year Posted 2017
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