Graveyard Writing
The gates of hell are slamming shut,
The dragon chases my soul.
Pandora’s Box with a broken hinge,
Which is overflowing full.
The neon lights I once chased,
Now burns my eyes right through.
Pondering all that was said,
What is and is not true.
The cemetery is calling out to me,
My soul is feeling so taxed.
Crypts and tombstones are my friends,
As I lay there feeling relaxed.
Constantly watching the moon,
As it waxes and it wanes.
More poems of my memories,
Leaving their crimson stains.
So I slug the remains of my coffee,
And I pond this darkened night.
Bathed in marble beauty around me,
As I sit alone and write.
By JToddUnderhill
© 2008 JToddUnderhill
(All rights reserved)
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