SMOKE

February 21, 2010

These bones, they’re haunted,
By night they creak,
Inside me there’s howling
each time that I speak…
I awake with a feeling
I’ve been far away,
And whoever’s been here
Has left it all grey.
They aimlessly wander
through each empty room,
Their foot steps echo
like steps in a tomb.
When it rains
I feel them peer out my eyes,
With long hollow gazes
surveying the skies.
I’m a mansion of ghosts
made of flesh, full of breath…
What do they wait for,

For life? or for death?

http://www.katevanraden.wordpress.com

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: