Dead Girl

Folder: 
Poems

Dead Girl, your eyes speak the truth
Your skin a perfect pale blue.
Hands cold as dark winter days
They are the end of your ways
Dead Girl, your eyes speak the truth
What have they done to you
Evil minds have you contorted
Beaten from whom you had consorted.
Dead Girl, your eyes speak to me
Oh how could this be
I hear your screams
Vacant eyes white as maggots cries
Dead Girl, how could this be true
I can still smell your perfume.
Your coldness haunting my dreams
Cause your touch is so blue.

 

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