White Cloak
written by: Gabriel
My summer smells like deadlines,
for lifelines kill themselves
sometime near spring,
with the serrated rust
of misconstrued martyrdom,
they wither fall
into a ghost who lingers
flaking slow
among the fallen ribbons,
former clothes
torn and thrown away
for the sheets of winter
I used to work as a technical writer. However, my words have always pulled me to creative writing. I consider most of my texts lyrics to imaginary songs.
Latest posts by Gabriel (see all)
- Shadow Spill - November 18, 2020
- White Cloak - March 2, 2020
