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Book cover image for Confessions of a Scribe
Confessions of a Scribe
Chapter 1 of 2
Profile avatar image for l_a_truell
l_a_truell

The Final Wish

Black wings angled sharp,

With feathers sparkling in the dark.

If I could see Its face

I'd guess there's beauty hiding beneath the mess.

But all I do is feel the pinch

Of a cold breeze, that foul stench

Of all the moments I have lived

And the regrets that came with it,

Of all desires, I have smothered

And all the dreams I never shared.

Because, can’t you see, Sweet Tormentor of my despair?

When I had the time, I did not care.

With parched lips, I look for water,

What I wouldn't give to taste once more

That insipid liquid, devoid of color

That is said to infuse life again.

Once I had dreams and aspirations,

Now all I dream is to take a sip.

“Cruel Angel, offering a placid stare,

Do say I have more time to spare.”

“Reap what you sow,” I hear him speak

While he sharpens his sickle to send me into the abyss.

I guess it is time for the harvest,

As I await Death's final kiss.