The Underworld Poem by Meagan Miller
The Underworld
Crying out for help in the night, she lives.
Lives only to kill others for pleasure.
The pleasure of knowing htta she has a purpose.
The purpose of walking the streets in the witching hour.
The witching hour in which all the creatures from the dead arise.
Arise to haunt and torture innocent souls.
Souls that are not expecting this.
This coming of the Underworld.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 1:55:32 AM # 1.0.0.1119
