Swampy dusk
Swampy dusk poison stories
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blastimus
blastimus but they since rose, and won the day.
Autoplay OFF   •   8 months ago
confused you fell, dead you can't rise.

Swampy dusk

Glimmers dim down in a wandering guise, moving mirage, roving image, state of mind.

Unsteady hands, a lonely shudder, gusts of silver dust taint the cold fog. Out the mystic bog jumps a black and yellow frog, drops of poison dripping from its legs, puddles of purple decay.

Fireflies lit up your lifeless eyes, your haunting look, your spread out fingers, all lain on a cozy bed of berry bushes.

A moat of poison keeps you safe, a glimmer of hope kept you sane, a look of pity kept you grounded, a scent of love kept you airborne, and a misstep put you down for good.

Dragonflies hover above your carcass on its platter, willows bend to keep you shaded, the moat spills, the leaves burn, your chest spreads open, only your heart stays whole.

And whole it would've been, if prayers could turn it all to a bad dream, but vain they were and whole turned to split.

Broken, empty, lifeless, poisoned, burned.

the swamp was sated long ago, when you let it take control, it now lusts for more.

On pain it feeds, deceit it breeds, forever bleeds the peaceful land,

forever more you will seek your dream,

your hope,

your love,

the one who left you there to rot.

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