Empty
The Dark seeps into the hollow place
empty...
a note blares in the silence
the horn of the forlorn
The royal dead are my choir
singing sounds of the lifeless and
empty...
they twist in the wind at the end of the hangmans rope
smiling on the outside of an inside joke
they can't help but grin
empty...
look to the absent shadow the lost parade, the funeral march
they dance on grey slated gravestones and laugh maniacally
only their heads are mostly
empty...
Copyright © Casey Williamson | Year Posted 2011
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