A blinding light shined from behind his deeming eyes.
I bare my claws, attempting to sway him from attack.
Unsuccessful.
Wielding his scythe above his head, the lifeless turbulent man steps
towards me and stops.
"I dare you!" I shout into the barren night.
With one swift motion his scythe cuts through the thick blackness
and rips into my hollow chest.
Dropping the scythe, he laughs demonically and says, "I wanted to
touch that which only I could have broken."
Returning my shriveled heart to my chest, he heals my wounds with loving
words, soft kisses, and a gentle embrace.
Someday he will be the death of me.
- Kryson
Reason for writing:
I was sitting in one of my college English classes, Nature of Fiction,
and was pretty much just ignoring the professor until I heard the words,
"... and now onto the symbolism of death. To this day I cannot remember
what he said, but I felt this poem nagging at me while I walked back
to my car. Not much of an explaination behind this poem, sorry.
Birth sign: Not entered
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