a shadow, by eleanor maslen Subscribe to rss feed for eleanor maslen

Old and dying you curl your lips as if this life was ill
equipped, to handle the evil that pulsates through your
veins, that moves your hands that causes the pain.

You smell there skin there broken flesh. as you call to him,
your brother, death. You watch them close as life leaves
them still and you take delight and you always will.

They cant catch man who out wits them all, when you can
escape the highest fall. You know this and that gives you
power, to them all, there souls, devour.

You walk along the city streets, remember them, as they
weep. nothing in life makes you hurt or cry because at the
end we all die.

Your logic is evil and you are too, hell is your home and
you know its true. Your going to die and when you do, the
devil himself will come for you. 
 



Posted: 2011-10-18 11:03:58 UTC

This poem has no votes yet. To vote, you must be logged in.
To leave comments, you must be logged in.