One Night

While I was in my teenage years, there were many changes in my moods and preoccupations.  I wrote poetry and stories varying from the affectionate and loving to the dark and depressive.  While my personality changed as I grew older,  I maintained certain fascinations.  Two of these are love and death.  I have already posted some of the former.  This is the latter.


One Night
the last light hour
Twas with the last glimpse of light
I looked upon thee
And then upon the knife
lodged inside of me

the night settles in
I fled to the forest
bleeding among the brush
I listened intently around to
the ominous hush

the witching hour
I heard chanting and saw
a light of life
I held onto dear memories
and a blood laden knife

3 AM
the unholy hour
I grew cold after the light
was gently killed
The dread and fear entered
My heart was filled

The birth of a new day
And the death of a man

Published by: cynicalwordsmith

I am, by no means, a professional writer. I have no dreams of becoming such. I just enjoy writing in my very sparse free time, both poetry and short stories. If you enjoy any of my works in particular, feel free to tell me. I always enjoy the feedback.

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