Poem -
Possessed
The night was slithering along,
Time passed crawling by.
On his face drenched with sweat,
The trickle of a drop of blood.
Said he killed a moment back there,
Whose ghost now chases him.
Assuming heβd stop for a breather
The ghost awaits, to haunt, to posses.
Sure he was on the run, but sans speed,
His bellowing lungs bereft of breaths.
Trickled blood seeped down his choking eye,
And his mind finally was possessed
By that momentβs kill.
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