Roz Kaveney (rozk) wrote,
Roz Kaveney

Wait for the sharpened axe, the silken rope.
Tidy your desk, update and sign your will
Count each sand second. Always knew the bill
Arrives brown envelope. No end to hope
Some cheque is in the mail. That email said
That you'd be paid quite soon. It's what your owed.
And death is riding on Samarra road
His horse will stop and death will nod skull head
And pass the reins. Does pale horse eat ghost straw?
You search the answer google it for hours
Three kittens rolling in a bed of flowers
Time almost up we thought we would get more.
Every last second brings one more last thing.
Perhaps he'll die. Perhaps death's horse will sing.
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