Frozen in fear,
a dark figure ahead.
No one could hear,
her scream as she bled.
She felt the blood,
dripping down her face.
Tears in the mud,
slowly melting away.
She screamed in disgust,
but could not run.
The pain only grew,
as she heard the click of a gun.
She knew where she was headed,
it's called hell.
A place she always dreaded,
then she fell.
Fell into the darkness,
well call death.
With no progress,
she drew her last breath.
Once we die,
we will be forgotten.
They will cry,
but not for long.
She took the wrong path,
now she is lost forever.
No going back to the past,
just lost in never.
We are the demons.
People killed her.
We have no freedom,
from fear and anger.
Watch your step, it might be your last...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nicely crafted poem! And what topics you write essays about on cheathouse.com?