Fritz O'Skennick's Gothic tales...
1 - 34 of 34
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Torrential rain and blackened sky, the day I sold my soul.
Foreboding dark and lightening strike, as thunder starts to roll. -
I travel through the countryside, On stead, I’m riding tall.
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Why does the moon affect me so,
When full in darkened sky. -
Looking at the tombstones, of those who’ve lived and died.
Thinking of their funerals, the people who have cried. -
I looked into the mirror,
When I was on my own. -
Like genitals are we.
Playthings in the lap of the Gods, -
She rises from the depths,
Silently, slowly, unseen. -
Death’s cold caress
numbs my senses. -
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She rises from the grave by night,
Her rage and hate unfed. -
Words foretold in print so bold,
Events have come to pass. -
Oppressive cold spots,
all throughout my home, -
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1 - 34 of 34
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