Down, down we go & mother earth she does cry
They can not pry us from the ground, we are limp in this earth as the moon wanes. The soil it does crumble.
Under our nails it goes but we are dead we do not cry for simple things no more
We die and die again, no matter how much the crow he does cry. The earth we are nestled in, is pushing us out, the night it speaks too us telling us there will be fresh flesh in our grave yard tonight the wind blows through the trees and whispers to us speaking in riddles it does.......... something comes it does.........something creeps in the shadows just as the clock strickes twelve......
A thing slinks out of the woods wareing nothing but black. This is something that every man, women and child fears. it has no flesh no eyes or hair atall he is just a skelotion coverd in black velvet , hooded and cloked , carying a siythe waiting for souls to come into his bony grasp
He wonders alone, he is the grim reaper
Death itself
11-2-09
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