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The Demise of Jack

Poetry By: Graeme Montrose

Halloween poem

Submitted:Sep 23, 2010    Reads: 128    Comments: 16    Likes: 8   

The Demise of Jack
No one batted an eyelid as he passed them by,
Little did they know that someone would die!
Silently hunting his prey by night he stalked,
As through foggy London streets he walked.
At last Jack crept up the old cold stairs,
Hoping he would catch her unawares.
He reached the door turning the knob gently,
Carefully opening it he focused intently.
Jack edged himself forward; one step, two, and three,
The wooden floor did creak like a banshee.
Damn these wooden floors with boards that creak,
A bead of sweat trickled down his cheek.
An old grandfather clock chimed, death's hour was nigh,
He froze and sighed as time ticked slowly by.
His nerves almost shrieked,
The door hinge squeaked.
Breathing sporadically, hot and heavy, Jack waited,
Tonight Jack hoped was not ill fated.
'Go on, go on, go on,' enticed his voice within,
'Go in, go in, go in, she waits for you therein.'
She looked peaceful lying in the midnight hoar,
He took a step, another and then one more.
He smiled, putting down his black bag extracting his knife,
She opened her eyes too late for Jack would take her life.
The bloody deed begun, an artist in his craft,
One, two, three, and more, Jack laughed!
His masterpiece in play, blood splattered everywhere,
Finished then at last, admiringly Jack sat upon a chair.
Back to his coach he now started,
Through foggy streets he departed.
His coach rattled along the quiet country road,
While scythe in hand Death's shadow strode.
Jack's heart began to quake,
His hands began to shake.
Thundering rattles approaching from nowhere,
A drunken driver in the moonlight glare!
Jack swore he heard Death's awful hymn,
The coach bore down on him.
Within Death's hollow eyes he saw his soul,
Doom, doom, doom, the bell did toll.
Jack realized he was a victim of Death's whim,
Death sang its song, mockingly calling him.
His mind exploded in agonising waves within his brain,
He lost control, a blinding flash, and oh such pain.
The drunken coach driver alive sprawled on the roadside,
While Jack lay beneath the broken coach, and died.
Dread engulfed him as he heard Death's hollow toll.
Fear now gripped his damned and evil soul.
Through the misty waters a shape began materialising,
Jack discerned only too well the figure now rising.
Death stood scythe in hand! Deep into his flesh the scythe ripped,
Piercing him through! Everywhere Jack's blood now dripped!
Down, down they went, deep into the bowels of the earth,
Down, down, down, towards his final berth.
Countless screams of torment, filling him with dread,
Into endless darkness; screams inside his head.
Fiery waves descended upon him; pain, horror, fear, and anguish,
Remembering all he'd done and where he now would languish.
His life now flashed before him, Death whispered in his ear,
'The party's over it's time to pay,' Death mockingly did sneer.
Death hissed with glee, dragging Jack screaming downward,
'Everything costs something Jack, nothing is for free!'
Downward ever down, pain and suffering follow in their wake,
Jack heard tormented screams float over the fiery lake.
Tongues that shrieked but none did hear,
Lost in torment filled with fear!
His life now gone - eternity yet waits,
Eternal life within Hell's fiery gates!
Death smiled while Jack did beg and plea.
Jack agonised! Death roared in glee!
Too late, the past could not undo, too late even now too late to pray,
'It's time to pay the piper,' Death solemnly declared,' time to pay!'


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