To all the gods on this dark and cursed night
may all your hearts take joy and make flight,
for when the morn does break this dark hue
the people will be praising and worshiping the thought of you.
As I sit in waiting on this hard seat
the only thought that could move my feet,
is the thought of the morning break
in hopes that the food in the cafe is no longer fake.
As all Hallowed Eve draws near
my thoughts turn to memories of fear,
and if it is my turn to me scared
I pray for those who use such a dreadful curse
for at the end of the night it is they who will need the hurse!
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2 comments:
I really liked your second poem, it's funny how the only thing that will make you move is the hope that there is real food for you to eat. (at least that's what I think that means) Either way they were all good poems.
Your poems are really good. I especially enjoyed the remark about cafeteria food. But have they ever served any real food there?
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