Friday, December 10, 2010

wicked terza rima

The Result of too much Dead Weather

she sees the horizon quickly nearing
dragging slowly on her cigarette
red clouds & smoke in her eyes smearing
her vision and her silhouette

twisting and jerking like a marionette
she's rotten wood wrapped in a musty cloak
a killer draped in sexy strands of brunette
she clenches his rings to make him choke

death tolls on midnight's sudden stroke
wraith- like hovering over his face
her lips are burning in plumes of smoke
and she buries him in the darkest space

a box for his soul and sinking skin
a box for her eyes and stinking sin

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