The point of death,
was soon,
I found.
I expected
to die.

Visions I remember
clung to him.

Possessed, I was made
the devil,
his greatest triumph.

Nothing would have saved me.
I was out of my mind.

Categories: Art, Poetry, UncategorizedTags: black out, black out poem, black out poetry, blackout, blackout poem, blackout poetry, c.eve, poem, poetry, prose, shadowofeve, thefirsteve, uncategorized, writing