Ice cold tendrils claw away
on this cold winter spring day
Digging deep into flesh and bone
the shuffling dead wander and groan
Shaky bony fingers seek warmth
bloodless and white going forth
Searching, ever for life
as ice cold nails draw like a knife
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Posted in: Poetry
bryonywrites
March 18, 2013
great poem, very chilling. Bryony
Darren Greenidge
March 18, 2013
Thank you Bryony. That’s exactly how it feels today! 😉