Pending Sorrow, Poetry by Chris Hill

Genre: Death, Rhyme, Horror

Pending Sorrow
by Chris Hill

A dreary night, a tragic noon
alone under the harvest moon.
The fog rolls in, the thunder cracks,
And in his hand he wields an Axe
He rides alone across the land
To carry out his wicked plan
with a smile on his face and a gleam in his eye.
They soon will learn that they must die.

By WILDsound Festival

Submitters reactions to their feedback on their stories. New testimonials coming each month! Watch this month's winning readings. At least 15 performances a month: Submit your script, story, poem, or film to the festival today:

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