Death is at your door,
Knocking; just knocking.
A question forms a glitter in your pupil,
Reverberating in the air as excited swarms of insects.
As the floor is eaten beneath the wheels
And the lights escape above the glass,
They are freed.
And whos hands are trembling darling?
When the doorbell wails to the music of squealing tyres.
Death is at your door
With open arms and an answer to your question,
Im so sorry ma'am, it's bad news...
Comments
celticman | March 23, 2011 - 21:15
death the policeman, nicely done.
leejmavin | March 24, 2011 - 04:29
great work here.I really like this. So much said in so few lines!
InspiredWriter | March 24, 2011 - 19:20
Thankyou! Much appreciated!
X InspiredWriter
marionwozere | May 9, 2011 - 17:14
Vey poignant and makes me want to go back and read and re-read it because there are questions and things left unsaid which is very intriguing. Especially 'a question forms a glitter in your pupil' x
InspiredWriter | May 21, 2011 - 17:12
Thankyou very much! (: