AT THE ROADSIDE

by on June 10, 2009 :: 0 comments

I met Death at the roadside.
Death was not as thin
as I imagined.
It wore a dark cloak.

When the wind blew and its
cloak blew as well
all the souls Death had
stolen could be seen

trapped inside its bones,
which was like a cage
imprisoning souls.
Death opened its mouth and tried

to take me inside. But it was
only a dream and
the fear I felt shook
me awake, screaming like a child.

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