Rotting Tombs

Hey everyone! Been a little while since I posted so I think I'm gonna try a little gothic style poetry (my favorite). Anywho I know this is a little rusty and I feel like I end this poem abrubtly. I reposted after I edited a little. Thanks so much! Happy reading!


Rotting tombs spout
black plumes that fester in the somber air.
While ravens stand shrieking,
like a clock that's clicking,
barren branches are creaking.
As tomb stones are eroding away,
and their dirges have whithered in the grave.

Imprisoned within a swirling culdran
of seething dirt and rotting flesh,
decaying kings disintigrate to dust.
Worms to lords
and kings to dust.
All serving as slaves
to time's plot.
Tick... Tick... Tock.

In a dark and dreary murk,
time poisons our lives.
Clawing and gnashing at our throats
until its all but
shattered our rhyme,
and doomsday will chime.


TuckEr EllsworTh