Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Blackness, Rust, and Tin

A rough road to follow,
Got me sinking my roll,
My mind was full of hollows,
And my hands were made of gold.

I trusted that ghost to appear,
The wraith of sweltering doom,
He'd promised me the future seer,
If I but give him room.

In my heart I held open the door,
And the phantom entered in,
But to my surprise I saw nothing more
But blackness, rust, and tin.




[21:26|26.10.011] ©c.thomas.carter

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