My Poetry
This is my place of darkness. Where there is nothing but silence through-out the room. I love the smell of the room it smells like a crypt of black clouds through-out the room. It maybe creepy or scary yet blurry because of all the smoke. It's so cold like a basement cellar I hear faded darkside music of gothic realms of mysterious force of darkness. Where I see outside the dark tinted window where I see falling rose petals over a grave. Which could be kind of spooky at times but once you get use to it your doing just fine. Where I see this go on and on again you'll see the smoke once again. And you will feel like your tripping my friend. Don't get scared trust your doing fine. I cant believe what I am seeing a ghost raising from the grave. So let the haunting begin. So off I go to see this ghost and I didn't even get close so back inside I go again and I dont even know how this story began?
By: William Allen