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A Hundred Haunted Howling Heralds

"All are those who rebel...but against what?"

A Hundred Haunted Howling Heralds

Clock-turned skies and concave seas

Dancing compasses favoring threes

Flawless hymns now ridicule me

Creatures in cages neglecting their keys

Knives in the mind for those whining things

Lovers devoted to whole chains of rings

Reapers do see us and cast us their wings

Rebels are those who've crowned their own kings

Foot falls too far to rise low enough

Crumple the parchment to straighten the cuff

Though inside the shoe be many a scuff

Dog calmly sits while man growls and barks

All future beauty tore part from part

Life claiming spirit while having no heart

sad poetry
Quill Pensward
Quill Pensward
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Quill Pensward

I write poetry and fantasy because I wish to write of all the unknown worlds, their strange circumstances, and the unlikely people chosen to live the story.

Instagram: emberhidearts

See all posts by Quill Pensward