• Rotten Apples

    Snow drifts down to the concrete floor,
    Draping the world in a elegant gown of white,
    Souls shall lift their heads nevermore,
    For this world is devoid of light.

    The ground quakes with deviance,
    Abomination rules all here.
    Forsaken is sword and lance,
    They hold unsteady in the hands of those succumbed to fear.

    Darkness creeps into this place,
    Consuming everything,
    Obscuring every soul and face,
    For in this realm, it is king.

    All feeling numb,
    Whether anger, sorrow, or love,
    To Oblivion, they succumb
    And in the sky, flies a dove.