Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Graveyard

Silver weapons gleam in the sun,
Blood-stained shirts lie slack over gaunt corpses,
Moving with the breeze they howl and storm,
It’s the Devil’s graveyard,
Run.

Screeching sprites hop and skip,
Among the gory battle-field,
Stretching skeletal wings they take flight,
No more life,
Run.

Death is among us,
Taking all life within his bloody palm,
His fingers grasp it tightly,
Then, crushed, all life is,
No more.




Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!




Site Feedback