Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Forked Tongue

For whence wind doth blow icy,
Thee shall shiver deep within thy soul.
From forked tongue doth thee lie,
Upon weary pray doth thou prowl. 

Thee shall take the form of a crow.
For whence wind doth blow icy,
Thee shall shiver deep within thine own soul.

Upon a midnight clear,
Thou shalt see with thine own eyes.
The son of the one on high.
He shall cast thy evil soul.
Into eternity within a lake of fire.

Forsake thee did the son,
Mocked his blood thee did,
Whence thou uttered lies,
From thine forked tongue.

©2015 Dell Anne Raye 
All Rights Reserved