Erebus Poem by Iara Aimer

Iara Aimer

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Erebus

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Beloved, hell's ceiling is all fire
Where dead souls form a choir
A necropolis where the rhymes
Mourn the golden ancient times

A swain walks the unwordly lands
He withdraws with swarthy hands
The sour bread and all the sweet
The opalescent lips will ever meet

Iara Aimer

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

poem poems Lips

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Poems By Iara Aimer

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Iara Aimer

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