Tick. The clock cries out. Out into the pitch black, into the thick tar of the night. Tock. The clock tries. Tries to cry louder. Louder than the footfalls coming from deep within the halls. Click. Click. Creak, sounds the door. Pound! Screams the heart of this frail little being as the ax climbs the air, ready to swing.
YOU ARE READING
Book of Fireflies
PoetryA personal collection of poems I have written and created. Please enjoy! :)
