Wicked Game

The body lay upon the cold concrete floor

Blood, deepest red, seeping slowly outward

A dark cloaked figure hung over the demised

It’s gaze fixed upon a figure frozen in terror

Of course Death saw it all unfold

The taunting, teasing, pushing and shoving

He saw the stumble at the top of the stair

And the unfortunate fall that ended the game

He witnessed all but one of the gang flee in horror

Noticed the last breath escape the dying one

Saw the wicked game they played come to an end

In his hands the hour glass that trickled sand no more.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown 

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