PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It was a lovely night to die.

The mist had enveloped everything in its path

Set forth like a blanket encircling the graves

Dew clung to the petal of a rose

The startling color of blood against the backdrop of snow.

I knew he would come for me.

I stood looking through the tree branches

Staring at the full moon

as the biting snow floated down

Assaulting my pale skin

I knew he stood there behind me,

Even as I turned.

He was waiting for me

And he would be the last thing I would see

Oh, it was such a lovely night to die.