A twisted vine is growing,
knotted, twisting, tight
a flame inside
is glowing,
hotter, blistering white
a shotgun blast
explodes the night
a single pull
creates it's light
Then death and sudden darkness.

The day has come to cut the vine
it's grown too long
where no sun shines
with one quick slash
of razor knife
the world is gone
and so is strife
Welcome death and darkness.

He cannot tell
the doctors say
from dreams last night
and life today
the rope that tightens
round the throat
chokes the pride
he used to gloat
Then swallows death and darkness.

Who'd write such morbid
death-filled lines?
He cannot be
a friend of mine.
Ensuing tale
of gory death,
he asked for you
in final breath
Answered death and darkness.