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Rated: E · Short Story · Dark · #1825458
There's no rest for the wicked of most vile, for there is always a due date.
“I am thee whom you seek...”

TAP-TAP-TAP

Now who comes to my door,
'Tis quarter till four.
For I wake to the nonsense of tapping,
it is merely my imagination of someone rapping.
A day's end for the likes of a mind that one couldn't stand to handle,
back to bed to dream like a vandal.

TAP-TAP-TAP

Who is there tapping at my door,
'Tis quarter past four.
For I again wake to the nonsense of tapping,
merely just my imagination of someone rapping.
Here's to my paranoia and sleepless nights; aged old liquor for such a delight,
strong and smooth the liquor goes, off to bed for dreams in sight.

TAP-TAP-TAP

Who can this be tapping at my door,
this tapping seems to be setting a score.
No more fun and games to who taps on this door,
I will settle this indecency once more.
No more fun and games for you,
I take this blade of mine to slice it right through.
All your devious deeds of tormenting and haunting,
see me now out and about taunting.

“Poor for he is old, stubborn and weak. You're nothing more than confused and meek.”

To whom do you speak?
Please do not be so bleak.
For this is to be my imagination on fire,
you're nothing more than a desire.

“I am thee whom you seek, cold and weary I do speak.”

Blasphemy!  For you do not show yourself unto the light,
nearly escaping this indigent fight.
My eyes burn cold,
so is for you to scold.

“Your actions and deeds no longer succeed, it is time to set you free.”

This trap you set out,
will no longer hold my guiltless doubt.
Your words are clear,
however, death I do not fear.

“You can not hide for I am in every stride, that you partake in this life.”

As for those who died,
I take no realm of side.
They deserved their pain,
now I worship all they owned in vain.

“It is your time...You can not bargain with me, nor those whom you sent to death.”

Enough of this torment; dare you not speak of thy evil,
merely explained as thy deeds as a weevil.
Under the blades they went to renew,
only I sent out to collect their revenue.

“Speak no more of your indecent actions amongst those who care, for now I am only part of your own nightmare.”

Enough! Enough! I dare to speak,
please show mercy as I kneel to be so meek.
I ask you for the forgiveness that I have never shown,
I can not bare to be in pain all alone.

“Your fate is sealed and sent, your wealth equals nothing more than a cent.”

My time rarely spent and taken,
I now leave with you to the forsaken.
Dreams, oh dreams, I do not fear,
I am on a one way path of a ship I can not seem to steer.

“To whom you brought pain, twice fold of that to be explained.”

Sealing my fate,
bring thy expiration date.
I bare to speak of this no more,
take me now; for my time is end and all to end.


“On this day of November the fourth, you will hear my tapping on your door, to see your fate come clean to an open serving plate.  Remember the tapping and if you dare not open the door, I will seek your soul twice fold the score."

TAP-TAP-TAP
© Copyright 2011 Scarecrow Poet (scarecrowpoet at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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