Stygian Kingdom of WoesA Poem by PloughBoyDeath hath no mercy...
down in his Stygian Kingdom of woe. The river's still flowing, but just where it's going, no living mortal need ever to know. he's truly never had much of a voice. A bony fist rests 'neath his osseous chin ~ as he ponders who'll be his next choice.
who's been contemplating taking her life. Feeling that death would bring an end to her pain; an abrupt halt to her troubles and strife. Or maybe the school teacher ~ now showing signs of a young student who's planted his seed. Soon just a statistic, signs of the times, ~ of purest lust, poor choices and need. It could be a soldier ~ a family's lone son; yet perhaps, he'll embrace you alone. Whomever he chooses, when all's said and done, his icy grip, they'll feel deep in their bones. it's well worth living, if only they'd tried. Tomorrow will dawn, usher in a new day, but they've all hopped on the Ferryman's ride... © 2014 PloughBoyAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorPloughBoySmalltown USA, OHAboutPlough Boy is a father of five. Plough Boy's main interests center around writing prose, however he does attempt to write poetry from time to time. He is a veteran of the Marine Corps, serving .. more..Writing
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