The Sinister Hand Dark Poetry

The sinister hand rises from the grave once again to grip the pen that wrote poetry full of darkness and dread ,

perhaps if was all bad memories unleashed or demons in my head...

I am the undead yet I walk to tell you tales of magic under the glow of the moon.. for I dream of me and you together soon

But I have to retire back into my coffin by the noon, for I am a creature of the night

At nighttime I turn into a bat and take flight among the stars of a beautiful magic skies

Then again this pen was full of so much magic and imagination , there was no limit to the stories I can tell...

Well with theese songs and poems I did escape hell..

and rose from grave to live again....

But maybe there was still a chance for romance, as we dance under the moon light and I speak poems into the air that fly into your soul...

Those haunting melodies that woke the dead, but made your soul feel so alive.. at times how much I wished you were by my side...

But perhaps not all is at it seems and I'm still trapped in a wonderful dream, where i felt love and joy, and i was Alive... a time I no longer cried ...

The sinister pen writes the story as it unfolds.. and these words hold the secrets to my soul, that most will never know