DEATH’S ANGEL

Intertwinning with the moon, the sun drifted way,
As her nudity skated below aster’s deathly light,
Murmurs babed the incoming darkness as she runs to an ultimate freedom.
Her frame swayed delicately as nighttime’s gloom came closer,
As nocturns scream of terror became definite.
Her hands soothed the black air,
Then from the black air she grasped a fatal dagger,
And with her frail hand she plunged it between her cold breast,
Blood flowed down her bare anatomy,
As she fell, cold, with the sun showed and
The deadly night hiding the dagger.


Theodore Arthur Pinnock
April 9, 1980