Grave Lips
Whispers from the Sepulcher
In the realm of darkness, where shadows creep,
A poet emerges, his words profound and deep.
With pen in hand and a heart that weeps,
He unveils the secrets that Grave Lips keep.
In the graveyard's embrace, where silence reigns,
He finds solace amidst forgotten remains.
His muse, the spirits, whispering in the night,
Guiding his verses, igniting their eerie light.
"Grave Lips," he cries, his voice a mournful wail,
Unveiling tales of those whose lives did fail.
Their lips, once vibrant, now etched in decay,
Tell stories of sorrow, forever to stay.
He speaks of lovers, their passion's flame,
Quenched by the grave, their love's final claim.
Their lips locked in a bittersweet kiss,
Now cold and lifeless, forever amiss.
With tender words, he honors the deceased,
Breathing life into souls that have been released.
Their grave lips, a gateway to the afterlife's door,
Revealing mysteries that few dare explore.
He weaves a tapestry of mortality's plight,
Of lives extinguished in the absence of light.
His verses, a requiem for the forgotten souls,
Whose graves hold secrets, no one truly knows.
So, listen closely to the poet's lament,
As he unveils the tales that Grave Lips present.
In his words, you'll find beauty and despair,
A glimpse into a world beyond compare.
For the poet on "Grave Lips" title knows,
That death's embrace is where true poetry grows.
In the depths of darkness, he finds his voice,
Breathing life into the graves, where souls rejoice.
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