Reaper's HandsA Poem by Raevyne
Tendons crawling beneath skin
Pulling fingers like puppets Make dull drum-beats on flesh Innocuous as serpents False-sleeping in wait For a motive, a last caress I stare, transfixed By these merciless digits Cruel, grasping talons Creased by terrible things With blood beneath their nails And sin in their purpose Willow, sharp, seductive They hold you at your last breath With a caress like a goodbye Spidery, pale claws Intertwining with mine.
© 2010 Raevyne |
StatsAuthorRaevyneBaltimore, MDAboutA strange, pale creature with red plumage and black war paint. It consumes copious amounts of diet coke and cloves, occasionally regurgitating artistic things. It squeaks when threatened. more..Writing
|