Death has hands,
Always reaching the darkest corners,
Pulling the life force,
Until it is gone.
It scares the bravest,
Starts a coward,
Weakens the soul,
Until it collapses.
Death has wants,
It has its needs,
It has rules,
And forbids.
It refuses to touch a certain being,
A soulless soul,
For it is forbidden,
And would never dare to,
To touch the chair.
YOU ARE READING
Evil Chair My Story
ПоэзияFar away in another reality there lives an evil chair. Its dream is to take over everything. There is a girls who's world has been taken over by the chair. These poems will describe her experiences and what she does to survive.
