The Imp's Games Poem by Whitney Davis
The Imp's Games
The dark imp’s will
Covers everything in shadow,
Giving it the thrill
Of turning hearts hallow.
Minds filled with despair.
Thoughts focused on death.
Eyes hold a blank stare
When they release their last breath.
Is it the end,
When the dark imp appears?
That all depends
On if you make it disappear.
Some will survive.
Others face death’s mask.
Will you strive
To ruin the imp’s task?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 1:33:12 PM # 1.0.0.1119
