The Black Owl

All Rights Reserved ©

Dying Flies

Here we are,

Close to edge,

With danger not so far,

This is the end, or so it is alleged.

My soul will never rest,

Until I take your last breath,

Forever together till death,

Like a riddle said to a shibboleth.

We swallowed these lies,

Forbidden in a garden of dead flies,

Now hear their cries,

But they were never too wise.

Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered publisher, providing a platform to discover hidden talents and turn them into globally successful authors. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books our readers love most on our sister app, GALATEA and other formats.