Who is it that knocks on my drowsy door?
whilst i snore with my inflated lungs,
swimming and gulping in an eyeless pond
what for they congregate demons i have raised;
how far will they drown us without being dead?
to bed i've sweeped and wept in frowns!
for i couldn't shout my life-saving cry,
i couldn't either die without saying her name!
there is a realm for every inch of ghost,
what better than the cathedral bloodborne,
where every shade assembles by red,
a thread is a soul woven around flesh
that is skipped by the murmurs of devil
turning as dark as the darkest night
i might have already lost being born,
there are inumerable droplets in a pond,
how i am fond of that accepted thirst
burst o bubble! burst before rain!
how heavily is heart stringed to the brain?



© ZiaD