PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Cathedrals and necropolis valleys

spread over hills, with a moon light fixture,

against the milk skin of the countress.

As she walked, beneath her feet the plants grew;

carrying her wherever she so shall wished to cast her lure.

The branches cut her a path in the deep greens

of the nights woods waiting for his return

watching over the cemetery.

*

"alas! she found her concubus",

he cut off his fingertips,

as not to leaves traces of his prints.

applying pressure on her white porcelin neck,

and he denied her to what she had deserved.

She was so uncomfortably positioned,

and so nervous, as to and he would do next,

but most of all,

she loved every moment, as did he,

for her body grew lifeless,

so that she could walk with him in life,

and as well as in Death.