Poem Hunter
The Dead Of Night
DC ( / The big spinning rock)

The Dead Of Night

Poem By Dismembered Car

In the heat of the night, as I lay in bed,
A sweat on my face, and all over my head,
Theres a knock on the door, and steps on the floor,

As the tall man enters, it radals my being
The gun to my head, an undescribable feeling,
Finger on the trigger, Nothing but a shiver,

The gun fired, the bullets flys,
Into my forehead, just above my eyes,
Then I take my final breath, and drift away to an untimely death

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 4

Comments (4)

You are really good with words!
very well written. great job.
This is good my friend! , a nice write...
Wow, just Wow. dont understand what is happening but im sure you know as you wrote it lol good work