Mort Ombré Poem by Death's Shadow
Mort Ombré
It creeps up
slow and silently,
stalking it's prey.
A chill will run up your spine,
cold as a winter day,
as the darkness
lovingly embraces you.
Quand mort ombré est prés.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Topic(s) of this poem: winter
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8/28/2026 3:04:10 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
