promise me
the ethereal silence found in moonbeams
as they glide across the grass
and the sound of the winds
singing discordant lullabies in the dark
swear by
the shifting plates of the earth,
grinding out their histories
and the memories of the trees
running as deep as their roots
lie to
the seraphim carved from morning frost,
unable to face the truth
and the demons lurking in the molted leaves,
hidden in the rainbow of death
YOU ARE READING
a garden of monsters || poetry collection
Poetryall that i create, all that i touch, is poisoned |completed 1/6/19|
