Summer death

Summer nights.
All warm and silent.
No movement.
Only shadows in the moonlight.

I see him walking.
Death on the move.
Coming to take.
Some poor soul away.

I scream his name.
"Death, oh sweet pain.
Take me with you."
He looks at me.

I see him walking.
Death on the move.
Coming to take.
Some poor soul away.

Copyright 2007 Nyorioko.




Poetry by Nyorioko
Read 359 times
Written on 2007-08-28 at 16:43

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