Not a name or a home,
She wanders alone.
Cold as the arrival of the winter's first frost,
We feel her inside,
And know we can't hide.
She is the creature only known as The Lost.
When Hollow passed not a tear was shed.
No one even realized she was dead.
In life she was just a catatonic shell,
Trapped inside her own private hell.
But in death she has finally gotten the chance ,
To make the most of her life that she led in a trance.
Grace of the Grave
Grace of the grave is said to wander,
And made many on a cold night ponder...
If some dolls die, and then come back,
Do they find in death, what in life they lacked?
Faith blindly believed
She could swim across the lake.
As it turned out,
This was a grave mistake.
Quickly her limbs grew weary,
The water did turn bitter.
But swallow it did she...
Such a little quitter.
A stranger said to Angus, "Do you want some candy?" "Why thank you kind sir," replied Angus, "that would be dandy." But when he reached down into the dark box Angus hesitated, "Come, come now, your treat is free and sweet," the stranger debated. "To pass up such an opportunity would classify you a chump!" Angus couldn't resist, drove in his fist and pulled back a bloody stump! Euphorically light headed he gasped his last breath, And our poor little Angus Litilrot sat there and bled to death.