top of page
  • bluecuspcreative


The bleating of corpses passing by with Dead words spoken from frost bitten lips Linger in the air like vacant cobwebs Their refrain silently torments

Dejection creeps stealthily, tiger-like Through the moonlit bulrushes As the lone cricket chirps scornfully Amid the darkness of the night

1 view0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


Q + A

bottom of page