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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1470210
This is about how death is close to everyone
Upon these blood spattered hands
In the darkness of my soul
Inside my pitch black heart
And in the thoughts of my mind
The only thing I see is death
Nothing more
Nothing less
Only the dark, cold, boney hand of death
Upon the shoulders of thousands
Of millions of innocent people
Which means every person who dies
Just makes death closer to me

I hear his footsteps in my sleep
Coming closer and closer
He has his list of mortal souls he must slay
And i am number one
He is searching for the right time
The right place for him to strike
Its only a matter of time until my soul is
Ripped from my body
Only a matter of time until i finaly meet death
And the blade of his scythe
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