Dance in a puddle

Posted on August 30, 2017 by Swor under Poetry

When rain has stopped falling,

Behind only a trace

Of the once great calling:

A small upon your face.

Mud is the ichor of the earth.

Not creepy at all. Not at all.

Posted on December 13, 2015 by Swor under Poetry

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

I’m in your bed,

I can see you.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

You’ll be soon dead

‘Cause I’ll kill you.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Don’t be afraid.

I really like you.

Don’t ask me why, I don’t know… ._.