Some thirty seconds ago
Thirty years had passed in which
Ways made thirty centuries
And the thirsty never had,
For themselves, the thirty men
To fend for thirsts and quench
So I sat waiting for my
Thirty deliveries, yes
And I'm just always sitting
In my dim years of thirty
Who said that, are you crazy?
Are you just a simple thought?
It's quite weird to be out, huh?
At this late of night, don't you
Recognize the frigid air?
You might get mugged by more thoughts!
I thought you knew better, dear
Startling in my dark blood!
You startled my dark blood, damn!
You're so difficult, just die!
And your resurrection took
Over most of my vast plains!
Satan is angry, I'm mad.
YOU ARE READING
Incoherent Poetry from the Depths
Horror(The painting in the cover is by painter Nicola Samori) Do y'ever just wish to feel the chills of the ethereal down your spine? Have you wondered what life is like outside your material universe? Did you ever posit the idea, that a good bout of uns...
