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Hell's Bells

Bong. . .Bong. . .Bong

The serpent encircles the harvest for
the Grim Reaper's flailing sickle
With a voice heard from within and out
the Reaper squeals with a piercing shout
"Mine. . .Mine. . .Mine
all you who lust in pride
Now forever and ever and ever
you will kiss Love good-bye

He, he, he, ha, ha, ha
ha, ha, heee. . ."

A contest entry

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    I plan to revise this poem: please leave constructive criticism!
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Comments


  • Danna Hobart
    November 20, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    Thanks for entering.


  • Fritz O skennick gold member
    November 9, 2008

    Edit | Reply

    Great stuff!!!

    Wonderful narrative, rhythm & flow that enthralled throughout & made for a compelling read...
    Keep up the good work...
    Well done!!!