Listen my children to the cries in the night
As the angel of darkness awakens and takes flight
A fresh soul he hunts to him no one is safe
The last thing you’ll hear are the wings of the wraith
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Your poem definitely paints a picture of doom and gloom to a person that lost their way, never asking for the presence of the Lord, then calling out when it's too late. I wonder though is it ever really too late to call on God. I think if one denouces the beast in the name of the Lord, his actions would cease. Why take that chance and allow oneself to fall so far that their is a possibility of being too late. We can call in the light and unload the dark, afterall darkness is the absence of light. Another wonderful poem Poison, definitely a good read and should exceed a (10) --Melvina--
I am glad I got time to read this, very powerful punch at the end!