Shadow Lover

none

With wings like jet.

And hair just the same.

He comes as he is bidden.

As silent as an owl.

To take the one whose name is written.

In to book he carries.

Be it man, woman.

Child, or elder.

It matters not.

No one is safe from his great sword.

It is useless to run.

For he will find you.

And take you where you belong.

Be it eternity in fire.

Or eternity in peace.

The End

1 comment about this poem Feed