My love lives on skull island,
where roses grow from bony sockets
and children draw faces in caves
where their ancestors lay.
No trees grow on skull island;
only grey rocks, flat and colourless as the sky above
with its eternal cloud cover, threatens
but never gifts rain.
My dear lives on skull island,
damned to rule over sinless children
growing roses as penance
for my death.
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Linda G. Hill 
Very cool! But where’s King Kong?
Haha! I actually hadn’t thought of that. Thanks, Jeanne. 🙂
😀
Goodness Linda. This was a chilling one.
Thank you, John. 🙂
Reblogged this on A Whispered Wind and commented:
Dark, chilling and yet so beautifully crafted! THIS is a must read!
Comments are disabled. Please leave Linda a comment on her blog. Thank you!
Thanks so much, Lori. 😀
You are most welcome, Linda 🙂
🙂
Sounds like the synopsis for a Stephen King novel.
Now THAT’S a compliment. Thank you! 😀