Categories > Original > Poetry
death stalks me like the beast within
unescapable and ever present
the feeling of dread slips over me
never knowing, always watchful
for the coldest of touches
the phantoms conjured in my mind
sneaking from the darkness
every movement makes me jump
unknown sounds chill me
like breath on the back of my neck
always waiting for the last moment
the time of collection
unescapable and ever present
the feeling of dread slips over me
never knowing, always watchful
for the coldest of touches
the phantoms conjured in my mind
sneaking from the darkness
every movement makes me jump
unknown sounds chill me
like breath on the back of my neck
always waiting for the last moment
the time of collection
Sign up to rate and review this story