An Autumn Walk to Hell by Catherine Calac
The trees have tuned to
Firey hues.
The wind, it whispers such
Cold news.
It is time for me to leave
This place,
And walk among my
Demon race.
My walk begins in my
Own grave.
The smell of earth, my
Senses rave.
Down, Down, Down
I sink.
From the firey river I
Now drink.
I am at home with warmth
And grace,
As I walk among my
Demon race.