A riddle or a poem? Or alittle of both?
|Darkness passes in the night,
bats flap past, taking flight.
The Moon rises on a crimson crest,
and evil takes you to it's breast.
You sit alone,at night, and ponder.
Gently your mind begins to wander,
"What grim deeds have I done?"
You never know it, you never guess it,
You sit alone and could care less of it.
Your tears they stream, but never in the darkness
do seem, to be creations of your saddness.
I look upon you, from a distance, and you seem close.
I see your tears reap seams so clear, and wonder why?
You hear my voice in your thoughts and we struggle...
You fear my grasp, and feel it tighten. I squeeze, I tear, my eyes they flare.
You fall, to your knees you go.
Your tears continue, yet you have no wound, you whisper
in a voice so low it rolls. " What am I? "