Taken.

Wallace

A howling wind does wake my sleep.

Then my ears do hear a banshee weep.

A chilling coldness makes my soul shiver.

I see the grim reaper and bad news he does deliver.

I lie in bed cold and shocked.

My heart ticked but never tocked.

I found it hard to inhale air.

Into the face of death my eyes did stare.

The howling wind did loudly roar.

Then lights out and i was no more.

  • Author: Wallace (Offline Offline)
  • Published: October 5th, 2017 01:01
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 17
  • Users favorite of this poem: Noah
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Comments +

Comments1

  • Louis Gibbs

    Not a bad way to go, and certainly not a bad poem, Wallace. Good write!

    • Wallace

      Thank you Louis.



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