The Rags of Life

Rattle, rattle, 
something did chatter,
in hours much darker than dawn
Swift little feet
quietly fleet
over graves so freshly sown

So ragged, so tattered,
the eyes void of laughter,
silently set in pursuit
And those nimble feet
quicker doth fleet
lest they be caught by his roots


Gabriel said...

I'm glad i clicked on the 'He who rides a Pale Horse' link. I don't know how i missed this post but it's definitely brilliant. The way he creeps out from behind the tombstone is awesome, as is the poem.

Laury Coenen said...

Thank you :)
It is one of the 'older' pieces but it's one of my favourites.
I love drawing his nutty eyes.