Blisters of a ghoul,
The fangs of a fiend,
The stench so foul,
pulsating, I lie.
The veins throbbing,
of the violent venom,
the shrudder cribbing,
for the fear so red and brimming.
the moment is red,
the moment is mad,
the hunger fed,
of a gloom so sad.
The waking comes not,
sleep, is all my nerves taught,
under this night they break
within my soul, the thirsty quake.
3 comments:
I could have expected this.
chit~ did you? :-)
Abbey Maths Padhane ka tha na, Then you would have become nightmare for your nightmare and they would not have dare to come again.
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