Macabre Bones

Sorrow whispers from the hollow bones of I Birthing fear within each moan and sigh Conclusion just a mere trick among prying eyes The answer lies hidden in cryptic disguise Before fate I rise to combat a deathly age Behead the master of sin who continues to rage One knows not if he possesses the act of sage Like a bullet, the hearts of many he'd graze Death skulks in every footprint he creates One would be foolish to tread in his wake Let caution be measured in stealth like a snake Flesh he is seeking; for a taste he won't wait By Glenn McCrary © 2011 (All rights reserved)