Bleed Poem by Sky Welch
Bleed
Sing to me your tormentful sorrows, bleed out thy wispful plight— A bloodless heart due cold, thine own self to bare, waste not the nectar of death, want not the bloodied arrow of plight.
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: blood,death
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5/6/2024 11:00:02 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A superb expression of the actualism and lonely individualism of life's resulting implement. Well done, I hope to be seeing more of this.