On nights that are not full of moon,
I take my membrace walks.
Pass the broken buildings ruin,
where the ghost of all dead talk.
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ah my Saint....chilling as only you can do....nothing like a piece of work that makes the reader look over their shoulder...nice one.
i found this poem interesting indeed. the first part of the poem helps create a good mental image of the setting.
good image... and great lines Where I lay all the girls to rest, who have pushed my love aside always Becca