Poet # Two

This poem is about Poem #1 from Challenge 3.

The marble throne of doom which was my seat
Was cold as if all life had run away.
I felt a sudden sense of great defeat
A chill ran down my spine and spoke of Fate
And where my nerves had pooled I felt an ache
And in my mind I saw the gleaming eyes
And felt I tools so sharp, so quick to hate
If Death lived here, I wouldn’t be surprised

The monster walked in, snarling, savage, mean
And came towards me, ready for his game
His tool was evil, menacing, a fiend
A chill ran down my spine and spoke of Fate
The pain was vicious, horrible, untamed
And evidently to the beast a prize
And from my eyes some several tears escaped
If Death lived here I wouldn’t be surprised

But to my shock, the agony did fade,
No chill ran down my spine and spoke of Fate
The castle I could leave yet I decide
If Death lived here I wouldn’t be surprised

The End

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