Soul Thief

Strange, isn’t it?

How my quiet words come soft and fiery,

Lifting you up, quick as lightning.

Creeping beneath a pounding silence,

The burning breaths of your taunting little world begin to end.

Your beating heart strikes me with envy,

Your flapdoodle worries churn in my soul.

Though many would argue I haven't a soul to speak of.

Ha! How amusing.

I have many souls in the grasp of my burnt, blackened, cold as bone fingers.

Souls to whisper in my pale, pointed ears

Souls to dissuade me from your world of gossip and rabble

But I come anyways

For your aura is my sustenance,

Your Earth my stage,

Your fate a place for me to vent my rage.

So I come.

I could be standing, shrouded in mist, just two steps of my converse shoes away.

I could tear you from your tired human body, your spirit forever lost.

I know you'd like to remain aglow in the sunlight, forever.

But the sun eventually sets for all of us, and if I don’t cut your silver chord, who will?

Certainly not any of your friends,

With the scent of life still clinging to their skin,

While yours is now cold and pale as mine,

Your mind now lost in the abyss where mine fell, many years ago.

You were so scared, weren’t you, but what for?

Now you’re just like me, aren’t you?

Chatting away to yourself,

Having the time of your life,

When you really aren’t alive at all.

Strange, isn’t it?