Bare Bones
Dancing on my own grave,
both sides of the same coin;
The power’s in the flip;
Is it righteous or the night?
A slow waltz can give lip;
Dancing on my own grave
rattles the underground;
Unruly sounds fill the air;
Ombré locks dressed to kill,
a bit devil may care;
Dancing on my own grave
the necromancer moves;
Calling the wrong magic;
Bare bones expand wanting,
nowhere near poetic.
Copyright © Melani Udaeta | Year Posted 2024
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