Foul, the odor greets me
at the very edge of night
before first shards of day
death chose to beat the light
too early duty calls
none would choose to go
Tag: Dark
WALKING WITH GHOSTS, Poetry by Lucy Williams
Kneeling in front of you, like a starving dog
I am confessing my sins
Be prepared to hate me as much as I do.
WILDsound Festival 