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The contagious Death.

Updated on May 1, 2015
Image: by Louis Le Breton
Image: by Louis Le Breton | Source

In my closet you scratch at the door,

With a thirst for pain, and a yearn for gore.

Now you lurk in the corner of my room,

giving me visions of impending doom.

Your breath is cold,

it chills my soul,

Are you death come to take your toll?

I feel you above me so I open my eyes,

A terrible sight was my surprise.

You grabbed my face with your hard, clawed hand,

I was filled with fear I didn't understand.

I remember your voice, so shrill and so hollow,

"You are my prize and death you will follow".

Darkness came after, but no dreams to see,

There was no more pain and I was free.

Then out of the nothing in front of me,

a light appeared, but it couldn't be.

I was in a closet looking out.

I saw him lying there, there was no doubt.

I had to creep slowly so he wouldn't shout,

But he lie there unmoving, so short and so stout.

An urge took me to tear out his heart,

to rip his warm soft flesh apart.

But as soon as it came the urge did depart,

I had to be cunning, I had to be smart.

So I took my clawed hand, as sharp as a knife,

I could feel the power to take his life.

I wanted his pain,

To make him insane,

and with this death, his soul I'd gain.

With my palm on his chest, I pulled his soul near,

His eyes shot open, I could taste his fear.

He couldn't speak, he barely shed a tear,

As I devoured his soul I spoke softly in his ear,

"Your soul is mine now, and Death is here".



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