NIGHT TERROR 2
There is the stench of death within the air,That smells like the rotten death of old.
I smell no earth below This wretched rake,
A unrotten corpse does not wish to wake.
As I lay within my soul crys out,
For what I know not why.
For when they find my unrotting corpse,
As it was prophesied all above must die.
As the earth warms my glacier melts,
Mankind mostly barely noticed.
Unconcerned as the ice melts away,
For the Devil is due his pay.
So come scholars Archaeologists,
Let me bid you to your graves.
For as this ice above slowly melts away,
I am waiting to escape my icy grave.
To wreck my vengeance on all,
For taking my life and death away.
Look into my vilified eyes and stare,
And see there's no tomorrow's there.
Let me strip your flesh away,
For Mankind's days have passed.
Welcome into my evil grasp, Forever
knowing this breath will be your last.
As you feel me crush your bones,
Drink me in as you would death's drug.
After all I heard it once said; By
Something along the way, Alan needs a hug.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 80 times
Written on 2024-06-21 at 00:16
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
