Lachrymose Lane

A deserted city street.
Where the non-existent sun would be but a pink grapefruit.

A single streetlamp.
The only source of light itself begins to fade.
And weeps.
The stone maiden in grievance of friends whose decaying bodies lie in the street.

The Ghost Writer

With shaking hand and trembling pen, dare I now to write again? The horror dwells within my mind, imbues the dark and makes me blind. Yet still the retina views therein those threaded measures held ne'er so thin. Would that they 'd be absent there, forgone by that maudlin chair.

The Mourning Dove

The morning hours I labored.
Till' came the lonely day bird.
Grief the feathers upon his wings,
Sorrow in the song he sings.
Air of dread tis' what aides his flight.
Seething cloud of despair and death tis' his evermore plight.
Desolate eyes of ice and steel fill to the brim with watery wheel.
Talons fierce, heart once strong.
Is bold and chivalrous for no more long.

Before Reading...

It is important to note that all the writings you will view on this blog are in fact written by me and I did not steal them or copy from anyone else. I accept all comments and criticism, if you have a wish to contact me for any reason please feel free to say so. Any questions or concerns may be voiced as well.

And you absolutely may not do anything with these writings as in copying, stealing, and basic plagiarizing. However, you may share these with anyone; of course mentioning the source to the persons you choose to share with.

And utilization of these are allowed AS LONG AS I am rightfully named as the writer in usage. HOWEVER. You MUST ask my permission to use them. No ifs ands or buts about it. If I find out, and I will, that you have been using these writings without permission; I will take action.

Hopefully, you will be respectful of my rules and I will not have to do so. As long as you will respect me, I will respect you. Thank you.