The sound of my thumbing heart could be heard across the room, his daggers still on my trail, my legs a burn to my fears.

The shrill in my bones, was a chatter, even the dead could feel, there was no doubt he wanted my being extinct from eternity.

He claims no features to his face, only zeal to his pace, with "I" an obstacle to his victory, as he gathers up to my gaps.

I was only but a running sin, at the devil's heels, my tail still stuck between my shins, like a demanding dog.

I could feel his swallows on my gains, still a step to my dame, and like the wind, his daggers are pierced deep in my flesh, drawing with it my tears.

A light thud to my being, I am met with my doom, it came for me, and me it shall have, I could feel his firm grip to my neck,...