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Description
So close I hear him breathing in my ear,
His presence: dank and black and cold and bleak.
Even in sleep I feel him to be near,
For my good warmth, his fleshless hands do seek.
A premonition lies beneath my bed,
Listless eyes, frost-glazed by His frozen hand,
Stare; stare into eternity, it’s said,
Or perhaps merely into Death’s cold land.
The trickle of the IV drip remains
The only sound to penetrate the night,
I feel my soul is wrapped up all in chains,
Haunted by the promise within my sight.
The image fades to the harsh light of day,
But the impression left, will always stay.

Description
So close I hear him breathing in my ear,
His presence: dank and black and cold and bleak.
Even in sleep I feel him to be near,
For my good warmth, his fleshless hands do seek.
A premonition lies beneath my bed,
Listless eyes, frost-glazed by His frozen hand,
Stare; stare into eternity, it’s said,
Or perhaps merely into Death’s cold land.
The trickle of the IV drip remains
The only sound to penetrate the night,
I feel my soul is wrapped up all in chains,
Haunted by the promise within my sight.
The image fades to the harsh light of day,
But the impression left, will always stay.