13 March 2012

Dead Flowers


Dead flowers

Cut for the grave

Haunt your days

And steal your nights

Your ghosts have voices

Wired into your synapses

Agents of a past

That will not let you go

For all that was said

And all that was done

There are no remedies

No songs unsung

To bring you peace

The past is a shadow

A dark cowl across your head

That shades weary eyes

From the promise of tomorrow



  1. I adore this ethereal storytelling voice that introduces the reader in such ghostly beautiful fashion to the unsettling landscapes of the psyche. Masterful melody

  2. Praveen Parasar14 March 2012 at 14:26

    As they say, even Horror has a beauty, only few could get it.... damn good...