Vision of the Fall
Visions of Usher,
Seven rooms with which flesh dwells
As reddened as a
Retro rocket ship.
Party to end all parting,
Macabre essence
Is all prevailing.
The mayhem of ring-a-rose
Maddened stares. I sit
Alone in green sin
When Death travels amongst us,
All that can be done
Is find the culprit
And grovel to the void face
Of my own doing.
Copyright © Grant Tarbard | Year Posted 2013
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