Dressed in my black shroud
I wander through the night
Looking for the lost souls
The ones full of fright
Hiding in corners of the walls
As the day turns to dusk
Covering themselves with boxes
To protect themselves they must
Together they huddle and tremble
For they know I am very near
To save their immortals souls
They all are hiding in fear
I watch them throughout the night
As they shudder and shake
Looking intently at each one
My nightly choice to make
Approaching stealthily in the dark
I have chosen which soul I will take
They can feel my presence in their hearts
For they know each night my choice I make
Tonight a man half frozen and starved
Shaking and trembling with age
No help for this soul tonight
For it is full of rage
I approach and cover him with my shroud
As he screams of his misery and pain
His last words of this world to be heard
As I take another soul into the night again
Mayhap the black shroud is death...the last redeption for the weary and the weak. Strong dark write here Kathy with vivid contrasting images. Well done.
hugs
fee
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Edwin
Powerful message in this poem. Death can come a release for some tortured souls.
Regis
hugs
fee