Unrest Eternal

The sky grows dark

The gate opens wide

Time to prepare

For the coming tide

Shadows dart forth

Red eyes that glow

Arm yourselves

On comes the flow

One comes forth

Scythe in hand

Through the gate

And onto this land

His cloak flows free

In the now cold wind

Skeletal fist

For all to see

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S74rW4rd's picture

Beautifully eerie, or is it eerily beautiful? Whatever designation applies, the poem works . . . and works well!


Starward