of Hope street
silently slips over the horizon
you nearly feel the icy blast
that pushed its way
through floor boards
seeking you
with its rigor mortis eyes
and its greedy talons.
It knows no mercy
and it sucks
the very breath
so shallow now
and then,
a grand finale
it blows its horn
and snuffs the spark
that once was you.
Dead calm.
The deed is done,
it matters little
that all death
is murder.
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