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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Other · #1373759
Oh, I was a sicko!
Death


Shadows of graves
in the moons white gleam.
A hanging rope -
the dead man's dream.
The silver glint
of the edge of a knife,
stained with blood -
the end of one's life.
A step off the ledge
of a building steep.
Drown in a pool
so dark and deep.
Death is everywhere.
Death is near.
And for you, my friend,
Death is here.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1373759-Death