Enjoy Your Darkly Gothic Poem

The Goth-o-matic


Untitled

Slender beams of moonlight enter
this darkened hall as I kneel,
always alone, always silent,
frozen here,
waiting.

Accusing forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
infiltrating my naked soul.

Paleness on my face.

I raise my head, now submitting to
this airy light.

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