Death's Grave

  A thousand crows flocked from the sky, eclipsing the sun and forming a wicked eye, squawking proudly and alerting all that a new sinner had been brought to the floor and as the crows sung their scratchy song, the trees began talking as they had once done, and fallen men picked themselves up for here death was an empty cup.

  Allow me to construct some delicate art. Picture shrewd rays of light beaming down from the sky, a sunless sky that knew no true light, and configure the lands as no more than shifting tides for nothing remained ideal in Hell's only eye. At first, perhaps above and below were like two sides, but the two sides had long split as do siblings and ties, soon becoming no more than opposing light's, from which both drew their own far lines.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  The good the bad, fell into place. Eternity had been cast unto two plates, and then without rhyme or reason, one day Eternity seemed to break.

  And fall apart.

  Like hammered glass or towers of cards...

  I've only tried and failed to write a few chapters before at different places, but even if I don't motivate myself to write a whole novel can someone at least tell me I'm not crazily egotistical for thinking my poem is genuinely articulate?

  Also I promise to write a story chapter next time pls accept submission.