A black garden of gray skull flowers, rotten fruit on leafless trees. I walk in silence through the Forest of Death, a natural cemetery. Where corpses form mountains, mass graves... and vultures smile at the hideous feast. Where bodies turn to liquid in the rancid air. Where Death overpowers Life... and I wade through the gore.
Reason for writing:
imagining dark places, full of death and peace.
Birth sign: Virgo
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View more poems by Insomnia (Amy J. Kline).