Photo Credit: Pixabay.com
Spirit of the thoughts
A chance at old haunts
Wraiths wander in remembories
Spectres loosen chains and wail
Cacophony of the dead
Whispers of life extinguished
No longer dormant
Rising on the winds
Embracing wings of the vulture
Catching thermals straight from hell
Fumes of brimstone scented in singed hope
Burnt offerings
Heaved on the ethereal alter
Sacrifices of dust and bone
Flesh having been previously spent
Cost of doing business with the devil
Had I only recognized my own reflection
In the witches cauldron, in the midnight mirror
My intact form could then suffer on
This was a random collaboration from the comment section between the lovely Lorraine, and myself. Her words are italicized. But better yet more of her words are found at https://myfrillyfreudianslip.wordpress.com
Complimentary poetry started here https://myfrillyfreudianslip.wordpress.com/2016/12/17/words-become-necessary/
Like this: Like Loading...