The Ghost King

Many of my poems are written with their title undecided so i end up putting a title on it as i publish it.

The stalk the dead,

Back to their graves.

They rule the world,

And kill all the slaves.

 

They are the graveyard guards,

The keepers of each soul.

The Murderers of mortality,

The hideout for anyone who ever stole.

 

They're as dark as the night,

But as light as day.

You can't fight or hide,

You can't even run away.