The bells

over 3 years ago (Edited)

The bells are heard in time and with the end of my body, I drown in waters of allegory of pain without a word to express it, there is only bone left in the grave, I am only liberal zone of the bells waiting for a shadow guide of what remains my soul, death becomes sticky and cold with its sound that comes for me.

Light the candle as a guide in the shadows of death, sad broken heart that turns to dust like words of oblivion, my skin will be nourishing for the earth, where one day I will walk on it, I sowed life and wasted time, which death does not forgive, sad bell that marks my departure, eyes that darken from seeing a whole life of your loved one.

Brave raven that takes care of my home and guardian of my external rest, that crumbles like self-love that is washed away by the mud, hands that leave no trace, love hurts, bitter glass of wine that becomes vinegar without breath of life, but without fear with a face without a mirror, I only hear the bells of my departure.

ocdb literature posh story writing creativecoin neoxian

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