Monday, May 20, 2013

Once Upon a Midnight...

Thrice upon a time.
The clock that never strikes on the hour,
But upon the memories of heart loss and pain,
As it's powered by tears,
For it washes the blood away.

The little dagger and long ax,
Are the instruments that tell the time.
"For torture."
Of course one person might say.
"For each little man dies in some way."

Even if the person is alive and well,
Suffering is the thing that drags on,
In what we call,
"A livin' hell, sir?" 

"Correct my good man." I answer the voices.
"Correct indeed."

Two twin pale forms of human
Are watching the clock as they are filled with glee.
Their pointy teeth are not at all messy,
And their hair is certainly dressy.
Their suits however can be a drag,
But they wanted to do this so they can be a brag.

"Stop with the rhyming strange writer!" One says.

"It's time for the killing." The other says.

Then with the instruments of the clock,
Now in their hands,
They come closer to me,
As I'm filled with regret.

But they do it slow and painless,
As they trick me in the eye,
Making me think how I'm,
Going to die.

But they trick me,
Both of them with their smiles wide,
As they slash me open.

"Bye bye creator." They sing to me,
"We shall see you in the next story."


  1. Dina! Wow, this is sad. I love it and it is beautiful nonetheless.

    1. Thank you dear! I had to write it since I had to let my feelings out. Nonetheless, I'm glad you saw the sad emotion in it.