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Ballad of the Midnight Hour
June 2, 2015
Hazy white tickles the weeds.
With the fog comes midnight
riding slowly through the morning.
Stars hide their faces. Afraid to
give light to the shadows of the dead.
The summoning bell of silence bleeds
the notes for them.
But who else will sing for the corpses?
Does not the wraith deserve a final segue?
Restless creatures trod warily at midnigt.
Afraid of the dead.
If only they knew the dead were
the only restful spirits their.
© Violet B., Phoenix, AZ
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This article has 3 comments.
David Fleming BRONZE said...
on Jun. 8 2015 at 9:01 am
WHAT ARE YOU INSAIYAN!!!!
dmanwithaplan SILVER said...
on Jun. 8 2015 at 8:11 am
Sorry I'm busy, I can't
dmanwithaplan SILVER said...
on Jun. 8 2015 at 8:10 am
wow. let me be the first to say. YOU ARE AMAZING!!!! WE SHOULD TOTALLY HANG OUT SOMETIME!
Duuuuuuuuuuuuude