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Charlotte Johnson
Poems
Nov 2012
The Necromancer
Through eternal sleep he creeps,
On your heart his mark he leaves;
Seeping dark into your veins
His gentle call will permeate your grave.
From his sweet whisper
Your eyes, they will flutter
And with one sweet touch
Darling, you wont be sleeping much either.
So, dear children
Listen to me now,
For the man dressed in black
Is indeed on the prowl.
You cant hide
And you cant run;
Not from The Necromancer,
Not when he's done.
Written by
Charlotte Johnson
California
(California)
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