A Ballad for Death

A compilation of the first 500 poems I ever wrote.
I write in my free time accross different styles and themes, sometimes there are reasons to what I write and sometimes there are not, but I always try to follow my inspiration.


169. The man in the mist

And with him came the mist,

He was tall, pale and thin,

Head held high, creepy grin,

Weird, you get the gist.

He walked oh so slowly,

Each step deliberate,

Dark eyes looking coldly

As if settling your fate,

His arms were long and still,

Set to each of his sides,

His costume dark and grey,

Quite richly tailored too.

The way he looked at you,

Up high, seeking his prey,

As if he’s who decides;

Could have been the devil…

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