As the full moon is rising
in the misty night
he visits the dead ones
with love in sight
The graveyard soil he shove
to dig up and disembowel
digging the dust
craving for lust
He opens the coffin
with trembling hands
to fulfill his desires
and satisfy his demands
The rotting corpse comes alive
hear the whispering dead
A necrotic love that never dies
morbid voices in his head
A deviant dark perversion
more sinister than most
But fornication is hard
when your victim’s decomposed








hello dearest Keith so dark you know they always look best in gray ❤️
HA! Yes they do. Thank you Brenda..xo
Hauntingly penned, Keith. Amazing write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
Thanks man. You rock!!