FA+
Shop
158
Views
Views
0
Favorites
Favorites
Category
Poetry / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 80
File Size 250 B
Report this content
More from Freemantle
Rue de la Rose, the death of all prose,
The fall of civilization I suppose,
And upon a mountain of granite,
The glint of murder behind a mask I would posit,
Lurks in shadow a god of dirt,
Broken bottles, glint of needles, the end of hurt.
Howl there, in the shadows of shipping containers,
Beneath rusting dumpsters and shining towers,
Whatever your place or face let's play pretend,
I'll always find you in the end.
The fall of civilization I suppose,
And upon a mountain of granite,
The glint of murder behind a mask I would posit,
Lurks in shadow a god of dirt,
Broken bottles, glint of needles, the end of hurt.
Howl there, in the shadows of shipping containers,
Beneath rusting dumpsters and shining towers,
Whatever your place or face let's play pretend,
I'll always find you in the end.
Category Poetry / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 80px
File Size 250 B
Comments