Lingered and dangling,
On a taunting plateau.
Waiting to perish-
To fade away slow.
No rushing the fates,
When they hold the upper-hand.
Their goal is to punish,
To torture, as planned.
Their blade won't be quick,
Ending the strife.
No, they'll cut you slowly,
Throughout your life.
Their poison won't kill,
Upon first tasted lips.
It'll be drawn out slow,
With only tiny, tepid sips.
They'll take a tight hold,
Your throat, they squeeze tight.
But they'll always let go,
Prolonging the plight.
Merciless, they laugh,
As death draws too near.
So they pull it back fast,
Lest you don't feel the fear.
No, demise is not swift,
When evil is in tow.
It forces you to idle,
To fade... away... slow.