Ian Armistead


After Dark - Poem by Ian Armistead

The creeping chill
but nothing lives
the air is still
nothing gives.

Old floral wreath
round stones decay
insipid colours
no life to say

The gravels crunch
but nothings there
gates are chained
no ones aware

That after all
have gone to sleep
behind closed gates
the spirits creep

Guardians of dead
they walk
no moans or chains
no groans or talk

Just roam the damp
the sodden ground
keepers of night
without a sound

So if you brave
this place alone
be sure to leave
or claim your stone.


Comments about After Dark by Ian Armistead

  • Silver Star - 3,772 Points Dave Walker (2/23/2013 7:41:00 AM)

    A great dark poem, really great flow to it. (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Rookie - 5 Points Joshua Fegley (2/23/2013 7:07:00 AM)

    It's good dude. I like it. (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »



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Poem Submitted: Saturday, February 23, 2013

Poem Edited: Saturday, February 23, 2013


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