Taralee Wozneak

Death Be Thy Name - Poem by Taralee Wozneak

As the blade pierces the skin
Raw bare flesh is parted
And hiding underneath
Waiting to be awaken
Is the crimson river
Flowing like sweet raging lava

Sugar and spice
And all things nice
Falls from grace
To this pillar of hate

As the ace of spades is drawn
By the hands of the angel of death
The string is cut by the blade of life
Hades now possesses another soul
To reside forever in the river of fire
Unquenchable waiting to engulf more

Thousands of years have been
Thousands of years have yet to come
Death always winning victorious
Enveloping victims by the dozen
By the malicious evils that walk hand in hand
The Grim Reaper and the Angel of Death

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, February 19, 2011

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