Eliterate

Grim seeking ...

The wind blows cold as a car drives past
remnants of rain splashes, never to last
streetlights flicker, through bulbs of glass
rustling leaves fall, burning to dust
A shadow forms, looming from past
You recall it all as the die is cast

A step forward is three in reverse
run to no avail, within this curse
feel that spine tingle, not the first
the scythe is here, waiting with thirst
that quenches all and naught; endless

Pain that grows on the very soul
lasts longer than most would mould
leeches on that which isn't cold
the flame fades as the candles blow

beat and bloodied in few pieces
still grabbing that which ceases
you to exist; it fizzles

gone but existing
dead but not living

Grim Seeking ...