by Lin Sheppard
The bare skeletons
of winter haunt
my wake.
Their fruitless branches try to
seduce and decieve
me from my state
To suck away my soul
to tear away my whole.
snarl, snarl
In this barren land,
I'm afraid my rock will turn
to sand.
If I keep in mind my sanity
I won't return to vanity.
creep, creep
These knobby, gnarly bones creeping
to snare the heart,
Can pierce straight through
with a single dart.
crunch crunch
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Hola, biendvenidos a mí blog. Espero que gustes la poesía y las fotos. hasta luego. Amor, Lin
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