Razorblade Kiss

Rookie (August 11,1988 / Hamilton, Ontario)

Death’s Call (From The Desk Of The Dieing) - Poem by Razorblade Kiss

As I lay here in my bed
I know I’ll soon be dead
I feel a rush of cold air
And I know he’s there
His ice-cold breath is on my back
His bony fingers reaching for my neck
He whispers the words of the Dead & Night
His eyes are full of sadness and despair
I sorry world for what I’ve done
Please don’t let him take me to the far beyond
I try to run, but it’s to late
His fingers curl around my wrist
By next morning I don’t exist

Comments about Death’s Call (From The Desk Of The Dieing) by Razorblade Kiss

  • (4/14/2006 3:48:00 PM)

    Breathtaking, literally. (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
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  • (4/14/2006 3:47:00 PM)

    Breathtaking, literally. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 14, 2006

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