Now it's time for your demise,
caustic lies and febrile cries;
feign fake smiles for the lariat.
Your death is near,
but do not fear fiendish friends await you dear.
Laud the servile, silent fans who watch your valor fade.
Crave the fetid sanguine wine that brought you to this day.
Your dirge has played it's time to die, so close your eyes.
Your soul is mine!
Author notes
One of my friends like some of my other poems and asked me to write them one. So this is what I came up with and why it's named the way it is. 
In a list
A contest entry
- Tears Ran Dry, Echoes Of Sadness (( Give Me Dark, Creepy, Sad, Cutting, Suicide, Ex.)) by HereComesTheSun.
550 points, ended September 14, 2008, 50 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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fantastic and erie poem every line flowed as music
welcome to finalist list
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