The Man with A Scorpion’s Tail
He is poison
The Man with A Scorpion’s Tail
A man walks out,
when others hide.
The moon retreats,
the air grows black.
His steps are slow,
but none escape.
The ground will bleed,
where he has passed.
A tail of bone,
and burning sting.
It twists behind,
alive with hate.
It lifts to strike,
without a sound.
It leaves no mark,
yet souls decay.
His eyes are void,
no light remains.
They drink the stars,
until they die.
His voice is ash,
his breath is stone.
He speaks,
and silence answers back.
The earth will crack,
beneath his weight.
The rivers turn,
to poison streams.
No prayer survives,
no fire stays lit.
He walks,
night becomes his crown.
And when the dawn,
begins to glow.
It falters,
broken at his feet.
The scorpion’s tail,
curves once again.
And shadows feed,
upon the world.
About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
Stay and read please. Like&follow me. If my poetry touches your ♥️ maybe leave a small tip
#Marie381UkWrites
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