18 April 2012

I took Her: By the porcelain flesh, With cankered claws Of festered mess, Through corridors of man not made, That proved the most unholy shades

Before Me: Cases stretched above, To stellared regions longed and loved, The steps grew more, And all I crawled, To meet the victim life had mauled

Stood in a mirror was my form, Reflecting on the Winter

Torn

thedeadpoetThrough Corridors Of Man Not Made • Opuss № I