Photo by Filip Mroz on Unsplash
The shadowy alley of villainous crime,
a once fertile valley now covered in rime.
An old shipwrecked galley begging for a sign,
the devil they rally with a lack of divine.
They torture a soul and ask for a boon.
Tides ceaselessly roll then rise with the moon.
The ship bell doth toll and sing like a loon,
for eyes black as coal will be watching soon.
An effigy burned they stare in a hush,
while night sky does turn, they dare not hope much.
For soon they will learn the feel of the crush.
The cold their concern no blood left to blush.
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About the Creator
Blake Capps
I started writing to cope with my severe anxiety. I’m still anxious, but hey, at least now I’m also a writer.
Comments (2)
I’d like for your grandfather to see this one!!!
Love it.