Prickling Pulsing Fingers of DeathA Poem by realmwriterInto fear personified
Turn and flee from flickering light
Stalking ever closer still
Footsteps loom at prickling back
Pangs of torture cripple inside
Born of shadows, inky figures rise
Hatchets raised to honor the slaughter A wide arc swings to fool the fodder
Terrified you flea in panic Stricken by guilt, imagining havoc
Awful horrors fill the shadows in kind Running from the sanity your leaving behind
Sinking from the corners closest to you Chink.. Chink.. Chink... what can you do
Chink... Chink... Chink... A scream caught in the back of your throat
Chink... Chink... Chink... You begin to feel the terror lost in a mote
Shik... Shik... Shik... A dragging and rattling of heavy chains
Shik... Shik... Shik... You feel ice raising through prickling veins
Successive contractions of the heart throb in your ears A sent of sulphur wafting slowly through your fears
Breathing heavily you try in vain to run Oh but the shadows are having so much fun
Icy cold mists of brittle blusterous breath You feel the prickling pulsing fingers of death
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Added on October 13, 2014Last Updated on October 13, 2014 AuthorrealmwriterHarrison, ARAboutYou know, I can write about almost any subject, in poetic form and even an ocasional short story, but I find it most difficult to write about myself. I am an artist at heart and will use whatever m.. more.. |

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