TheSilent Loudness


An Empty Hourglass


In love with Bad Fortune, that I am
She holds my heart yet crushes my hand
A wicked temptress, a witch at best
A seamstress of hate and burning desire
With which to cast poor souls to hellfire

My love visits me everyday
Brings many gifts such as an empty hourglass
She deems it best to me to say
That she will bury me under many a rotten carcass
Of her past loves, poor souls not to speak of

Submitted: Friday, April 13, 2012

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