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The Door

Creepily walking The feeling of the soft carpet Moving swiftly and silently The door continues to knock The sweet smell of nectar infiltrates my nose I wonder what's behind the door I grab and turn the knob to the right I cautiously open the door A gust of wind blows Pushing my hair out of my face I stare as my face grows blank Death is at my door

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

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