Row, row, row your boat.

A surreal painting of death.

Who is taking you down the stream of silhouettes?
Look back at the cauldron inside the gleaming eyes
It is black as the day you were born in
Breathe the air of the tree &
Let your soul twirl as it is kissed by fate
Stolen from you quickly
A whisper being the only thing
That's left behind your back
How are you?
Are you alright?
I'm dead mother
A corpse on a toilette. 

Reviews

[adrawerwithholes]

Well to know that someone actually reviewed my work is actually flattering! Thank you.

[whispereversolightly]

I like this little write. Very nicely done

[Death Stalker]

Not bad, I'm not much of a poetry reader so don't ask me for criticism.