Wednesday, 11 November 2026

Dead End Grave

 

Doomlit evenings, lead to endless nights 
Ethereal, or creepy, it's a realm of wights 
And tho' it's hell, you may sate in wonder 
Down the lane, where life's torn asunder 
Eerie half light pours onto petrified trees 
Noxious air has parched, the fallen, leafs 
Despite death's stench you need to tend 
Gathering, fateful courage, on you wend 
Roaming revenants, are where you crave 
Abroad in a cul-de-sac's, dead end grave 
Vexed, and wearying, although you knew 
Engraved by a pit, is a stele, scribed 'You' 


 🪦 

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