Dark eyes looked on from afar at the gaunt face
Gazing down at the starlit headstone of the tomb.
He was unhealthy, unwell, ailing in the sense of the soul.
This crusade of apologising to every ghost he knew
Would only thin out the rails of his bone further.
He was withering under the weight of his morality.
.
It was a dark night.
In the absence of the moon, the stars could shine
With the fervor he remembered them having in childhood.
The smooth bark of the tree pressed into his back,
Ruffled the slick black of his hair as he gazed skyward.
Metal touched his lips and whiskey sloshed down his throat.
.
There were ghosts to beg forgiveness from but this,
This could never be one.
About the Creator
Silver Daux
Writer of the dark! Think of it like flipping rocks, the weird little stories underneath are my jam and jelly. Jam and butter? Just jam. Absolutely no use of AI in any of my works :)
Ah, also:
Tiktok/Insta: harbingerofsnake
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