Death Angel's Hold

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Again he comes to me with sick thoughts in his mind...

Submitted: September 10, 2007

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Submitted: September 10, 2007

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The day grows silent

Only the whispers of sorrow

Carry the wind

Through the trees.

The sun’s rays wrap around the atmosphere,

Yet its warmth

Doesn’t soothe

The feeling;doesn’t fill

The emptiness.

A ghost once repressed

Returns with a vengeance,

Ready to kill.

I stand somewhere

Inside myself

Unable to find

Myself

To feel myself.

A body numb;

A view blurry from the tears.

I am not me,

Yet Death stands

Behind me

Awaiting

His hand on my shoulder,

His whispers in my ear.

I try not to listen

Though he is in control.

He is inevitable,

Ruthless

And convincing.

I listen intently.

The whispers are chaotic

Forming circles in my mind.

I try to walk away.

I stand still.

His voice becomes bitter

Yet his words become sweet.

A lament,

Colorful but evil

They are.

The fallen one appears

At a distance,

Yet not far from

Where I stand.

He offers life,

Sin,

And overwhelming joy;

I close my eyes to him

Darkness swallows him away

I come to

In the silent day

A world without worry

A world with hopes

My life becomes a tunnel

Surrounded by emotions

I drown in my thoughts,

They are dark

Full of evil

Full of desire.

They are selfish

They are mine

They tear me apart.

Death’s whispers start to make sense

I dare not give in

Or do I?

Emptiness is hunger

Pain is unforgiving.

I grasp what little sense

In me is left

Through the pain

And emptiness

And longing

I look on

Ignoring Death’s touch

For as long

As I am able to;

Losing strength along the way

Knowing

That at some point

The whispers of sorrow

Carried by the wind

Will turn to smiles

Of the heart

Either in life

Or in death

Should he be able

To steal from me

My life

Which I so

Willingly may perhaps

Give to him.

 


© Copyright 2019 Damaelle. All rights reserved.

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