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Night Terror of Dreamless Sleep
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Dark Poetry We began.
Innocent.
Peaceful silence fell over the barren land.
Ashes rained down from a crimson-laced midnight—descending.
Desolate fields of wilted flowers bend before us.
Petals crack beneath our feet as we continue, onward into the death of white chrysanthemums—withered red and white roses.
Blindfolded and bound, we wander like strays, only the half will to breathe plaguing our lucid nightmare.
Yet we carry on as scavengers, vultures, preying on the rumors of a sinking world.
We circled the bleeding sky.
With blackened wings we soared above the wreckage and sang an elegy for that which has passed.
Two white and one red.
Friendship, love, and truth is dead.
We end.
