Pitt's Theories, Thoughts and Practicalities…

Short. Dark. Prose.

Rime of the Maligned

Black is my heart, blacker still my soul.
Black are my eyes and mind that have turned cold.
‘Twas a time I rode lightning and flames, then I was burned.
Life unfair. Dream-fostered nightmare.
A man scorned. A man spurned.

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Soul’s Midnight

In the cover of darkness
Three into the witching hours
Wading in the depths of despair
Death, so close, so thick in the air

This way it comes
And one’s heart, it doth drum
A beat so frantic
It approaches, it comes
Ice in one’s veins
Enter Panic

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