Bones beneath the bed

 

 

 Look about the rancid ground,

grey feathers a thousand.

Green yolks, cracking shells,
little eyes that can’t discern,

so down their young fell,
  young corpses to the earth.

 

Buffet for plump maggots

from a conscience denied,

beneath this cup of innocence;

the infants, have died,

ill rose they left behind,

yet they never learned,

the deeds of romantic crime:

they roused demons that burn.

 

Their graves are not deep

and soon the phantoms call,

 horrors wake from sleep

at the coming of nightfall.

 

Bones below so restless,

why can’t they let one sleep?
 -Curse upon the reckless,

white coffin cold and deep.

Down the sallow mattress,

still white revenants weep.

Perched above the carcass,

grey cuckoos are asleep…

 

Reviews

[Everett DeValle]

Eerily creepy and cryptic verse...artistic too as you display your voice in emphasis and also sentences that were de-emphasized for effect...nicely done. Write on.

[Juan de Rajah]

Thanks Mr.DeValle. It is a pleasure that you enjoy what I do :)

[Everett DeValle]

I loved this piece...I enjoy all types of poetry, especially, dark twisted poems lol...this is exceptional bro. Kudos.