Forget me not upon this shining green,
Listen close for my words so lean.
You’ve beaten me back into the gloom,
And staved off impending doom.
But I will wait beneath each wood,
Growing deep like poisoned wounds.
Waiting coiled round each mistake,
My time will come like striking snakes.
You’ll never be rid of me mark my words,
I’ve split my eye one to thirds.
Like a raven upon a grave,
I’ll wait for you till your dying day.
This is the Sinister Countdown. If you liked this descent into madness be sure to like and follow this month’s macabre passage. These stories, words, and poems come from the darker recesses of the mind behind the InkOwl. If you’d like to read past Sinister Countdown posts, follow the link below.