The Feet of Death

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
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Submitted: November 13, 2011

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Submitted: November 13, 2011

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Bloodied clothes lay upon the dusted wood,

Destroyed canvas of old dreams once good,

Draining fear from pours so pale,

Shells clink as crows set sail.


Different shades seep through the cracks,

Alternate trails soak along un-used tracks,

Imprints dragged from lifeless feet,

Carcass tied to a red paint seat.

 

Their sins so ripe they did not think,

That when they die all justice sinks,

Into this mire they too shall weap,

As the feet of Death stand by the brink.

 

Creeking abyss on the end of a rope,

All is gone but the flesh still copes,

The tired and weary barrells rest dazed and doped,

This day has seen its victims lives revoked.

 



 


 


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