At first, his sight ceased
Then his hearing was no more
Darkness fell
Silence reign
No longer could he feel anything
Alone, lost, empty
The darkness was too loud
And the silence too bright
His humanity went astray
As his sanity and ability to think
But soon the monotony of nothing was broke
As a little stomping sound materialised
The sound grew
Killing the buzzing
The deafening buzz of silence
And the sound came closer and closer
A figure as small as an ant came to be
Breaking the integrity of the darkness
And it kept approaching him
And as the distance reduced it self the figure was now understandable
A horse
A pale horse
Either green or yellow
But pale
A rider
Tall and fair
Dressed in long robes
Carrying a weapon
As tall as the rider
A scythe of bone
With a rusted blade
A scythe of death
Smiling the rider lashed towards him
Scythe in hand
Ready to reap
Killing to kill
Gaming momentum
Gaining speed
Raising his hand
Raising his weapon
Life was no more
Life came and went
The afterlife was near
As death approached
The two colliding
And the darkness disappeared
The rider, Death
The deceased
Vanished
All the clash made everything
Reach the end
The final destination
About the Creator
Tomás Brandão
Jack of all trades, but master of none, Communications student, and freelance writer. Trying to change the world by starting to change myself.
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