Death is fateA Poem by Oswald Chesterfield CobblepotFate works in really odd ways, it could be dangerous
The halls echo with haunting laughter
As the guest's in the ballroom hold each other and sway The lively ones would scream thereafter None would see the light of day Oh poor Miss Wilder, so young and fair Her fate was imbedded inside a twelve-gauge The date held her arm as he blew her away with a heartless stare Now blood and brains mixed with her beautiful dreams of being onstage All the guest's were too busy drinking and laughing to hear The screams and cries that drew the crows from their nest The man held her in his arms, shedding one or two tears But he thought it was for the best The party ended with screams of pain The man who was as quiet as a mouse lashed out in hate Everyone in the hotel were slain The lives of everyone were ended by the twist of fate © 2014 Oswald Chesterfield CobblepotAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorOswald Chesterfield CobblepotGotham , NJAboutWelcome foolish mortals, to my domain. Kindly step all the way into my profile... there's no turning back now. Yes as you can tell, I'm weird. But don't let that stop you from indulging in .. more..WritingRelated WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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