LoginSign Up
Funeral Town


The dead all gather

In funeral town

I think they'd rather

Burn it down

We conspire

To rub them out

To quench the fire

Of our burning doubt

Steamy battles

With blades of steel

Mindless prattle

About the way we feel

No pale caskets

No binding graves

Just full waste baskets

Of the lives saved

Constant dreams

Of dreary dark

And countless schemes

That we must embark

Patient greys

And handsome black

Passion plays

Take us aback

Newborn weeds

Of no control

The sprit feeds

On love we stole

Lucid nightmares

Of licking flames

Hateful stares

In picture frames

Dramatic trick

Of light and smoke

Why do we pick

The ones we broke

With this kiss

We bliss eternal

All else dismiss

Into our journal

Try to remember

If you think you must

Become a member

Of our macabre lust



Be the first to comment this poem.