Sunday, April 19, 2015

NaPoWriMo 2015: Day 17

#17: RAIN

Or is that the sound of thunder
Crackling from my own heart
As I put you away for good
In the coffin where old follies lie?

No matter.
I have you bound with chains
That even Hellboy cannot break.
Like a mad witch I cavort and caper
Relishing the burial of an unclean thing.

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