Clint Tilley Poems

The Flames Of Death

As the flames erupt. You look forward to see something you don't want to see.
Death stands before you with his scythe. He speaks to you. 'You're comin' with me.'
You get on your knees and beg for him to let you live another day to say goodbye.
He shakes his head and raises his hand. 'I can't let you do that. For today is when you die.'... more »

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