Against such gates of Hell,
A lonely master beckons.
The place where he can only dwell,
Makes one count their seconds.
His, a fiery dream,
To strangle his fellow,
Of their every scream
That may just bellow.
Darkness is a gift,
For this sight you can't deny.
His curse, you cannot lift;
This death you must die.
Author notes
Don't like it much but...
Thanks for reading.
Best of luck everyone else.
A contest entry
- ~*~Make Me Think~*~ by Bend to Break.
600 points, ended February 5, 2007, 7 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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