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emonightwalker — Deaths a Stalker
by-nc-nd
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Published: 2011-08-19 04:03:46 +0000 UTC; Views: 153; Favourites: 3; Downloads: 0
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Description
He's Here...Blackened feathers litter the floor,
which rooms will he enter?
Which door...
The dust lifts though the air
the smell of flesh and rot lingers
then a finger though my hair...
The floor board moans,
then the shutters screams..
In here he's flown,
and his scenes keen.
No where to run,
no where to hind or seek
my time is near,
So i shall peek.
...His eyes...are cold.
Bizzard struck
No lips, no eyelids
More like their stuck.
The scythe is neither
steel or gold
Thats when he spoke,
"Its yours to hold"
As if i had the chance to fold,
Inside the scythe,
The souls of old.
A mother and child,
A father of three.
A burning car crash
Their fate to be.
A Little girl
The age of three
learns the heat of bombs
on a subway train.
He Looks to me, then to my wrists,
"Its pitiful to see a death like this"
He swings his scythe, with enjoyment and ease.
I find myself on hands and knees.
Leaning in slowly, he aims to kiss
He whispers
"I never miss"
My Wrists are healed, Him covered in mist,
"Enjoy this life son, or enjoy my kiss"
Comments: 7
Thank you Kenya ^-^. I Appriciate that very much.
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Dude this is really great! I like it! It seems like you got a little -- very little -- bit of idea from my "Shadowed Memory" in the first few stanzas of this, like if you put em side by side there are a few similarities. Yours has way more to it tho, and the meaning is different.
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I got the inspiration from yours actually ^.^
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kinda depressing... though the art itself is good.
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Thanks? Lol Its supposed to be that way?
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