The_Lovely_Insanity
The pale light of the moon
Shines down on the gates
Of the graveyards grounds
Graves and Tombstones
All of the deceased
Loved and forgotten
What a pitiful thing
Deaths of those
Who were missed dearly
Are now forgotten
For it seems eternity
like that one n_n
I'm Nocturnal on Thursdays
She stumbles through the
night drenched streets, coughing,
spluttering, retching and completely
alone. Her bile stained lips
utter gently manic lullabies
to the rabbits running frantically
across the car park, through the
fence and under the rusted train tracks.
Putrid bitter yellow, she spits death
onto the cold pavement, wandering
aimlessly home in a direction taking
her far from it. she stares at the
cold, artificial orange lamplight. Fake.
She scowls. How dare you? How dare you
try to mimic the sun? Let me have my
darkness. I am nocturnal on thursdays.
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