Gothic literature
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The Unforgiving Graveyard
The raucous wind roared, swinging the versatile branches of a towering oak,
hovering above isolated stones.
A dark cloak swallows the place whole
The shadows of our past
The shadows of out future
We follow what we will
With hopelessness in futility.
Where am I? Who am I?
I have just awakened here.
Where do I go? Is this fear?
I listen to silence and wonder.
Hopeful towards communication;
Dreaming of some salutation.
Loving for all that is colonization.
How it starts, I do not know.
It cannot be stopped or weeded;
It cannot be helped or treated;
Damp, dreary darkness deplores,
Carnal, creepy crawly carnivores;
Intense, insane ink implores,
The Raven and The Light
The bird that flys in the night,
you shall call him crow.
I may call him winged king.
The name beats in my heart.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore-
On a quest to find the extraordinary Alice. He roams through the dark forest with evil intent. His very existense is fed by grim malice.To stop at nothing to find her is his black heart's true content. In his hand lies a small box.
