The presence of death is felt all through the air

It’s chilling breath of animosity lies in the density of ticking time

It does not miss it’s target 

A sharp shooter with the stained arrow of blood aiming for life

Skinning back the air in a hurry for time

Even if it’s not mine or yours or maybe I’m not even sure 

But I see it and I feel it 

Lurking in the shadow of that dark valley 

And even then I will fear no evil;

So this must be it…

I think I may have heard the hit

It’s target it didn’t miss 

A twisted beauty in fate

It was never too late

But right on time

I guess it was best that we kept our distance…


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