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The End of Summer
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Sex, Drugs, and All My Glory it's the begining of her fall
she cries as she watches the leaves fall off the trees
as he passes her, he knocks her down with his claw
she screams in pain, but he laughs
as she drops down to her knees
he hunts her down for her blood
the death of him will be another's victory
her burnt remains soak into the mud
all this will soon be a memory
a tale of a love that failed(?)... i read most of your poems and i came up with the conclusion that you are inclined to the gothic culture...are you? nice poems you got here.