Your Loss Is My Pain
The dead man stains
He blots the cloth like acid rain
Soft dots that push the boundary toward their shame
The flesh it drains
Of colour, leaving leprous vein
Dappled flesh and sallow skin attain
There be no name
But cooling eyes and jellied brain
No noise but hollow, echoing refrain
The fact remains
What gain has Death
When Life be not in vain?
Showing entries 1 to 4 of 4
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