Sacred Light (Tale Of Poems)

Blood is passion

I have a feeling, one of urgency,
I have a feeling, very cold,
I woke up, the air was moist and musky,
I was struggling to breathe,
My ribs were bruised, my arms detached,
He came in, a sickening smile I tried to plead but no sound came out, a cry unheard as I bled out,
Death's cold grip wrapping me tight,
he simply laughed and said "good night Simon".