Writing One Page at aTime

Kasey Hill – Author & Poet

Roll the bones–poetry

Roll the Bones

Thine sweet lips will never brush upon my face

Thine soft skin will never feel my hand again

Thine brown eyes will never gaze upon mine

Instead I’m riddled with thine bones of rhyme

And bones indeed I use to decipher lies

Casting them into darkness sublime

Divining the truth and solace of man

Thine bones cast an eerie shadow within my hand

The color of death wraps up my wrist

Tattooing darkness upon my skin

A mark of death doth it brings

A lullaby of the reaper doth it sing

Thine bones of death doth spin a tale

Of us being together do they tell

In a shallow grave buried within a casket of gold

Where our bones shall intermingle and be as one

A recipe of death etched on the notches of thine joints

Etchings engraved deep to make a point

The future filled in death and woe

Is what I read when I roll thine bones

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This entry was posted on September 24, 2015 by in dark poetry and tagged .
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