Why Thursdays Shouldn't Exist (An Elegy, no not a Eulogy)

A new disease
Not in the books.
An unmarked grave
Lost in a field of names.
Caught without an imprint.
In an abyss of forgotteness.
Sealed, closed inside
A rotten coffin.
In the end, the lush green
Grass grows over dirt
And makes it look
As if no one
Is locked
“Six feet under.”

Comments & reviews · 3
Note: You are not logged in, but you can still leave a comment or review. Before it shows up, a moderator will need to approve your comment (this is only a safeguard against spambots). Leave your email if you would like to be notified when your message is approved.

User avatar
Muse
Comment

Certainly well written..I like it. Don't really have much to comment on sorry, except that it's good. Ah well. Nice work..

User avatar
AngelBaby88
Comment

HA HA I found you (lol) Didnt I already read this one.
Jaylynn



Prometheus, thief of light, giver of light, bound by the gods, must have been a book.
— Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves