Misguided

3 Scratches for the Time Keeper

I'm running faster than I thought possible,

Dreading when he catches up,

Biding my time, I run and run,

Holding my throat so it won't spurt blood.

He's coming, he's catching up,

I can't run any quicker,

But he keeps tripping me,

And the fog is getting thicker.

I refuse to fall down,

I will not be deterred,

I dodge left and right adamantly,

Though my eyesight was darkened and blurred.

The pain is almost unbearable,

Begging me to slow my pace,

But I can hear him behind me,

Whispering 'You'll never win this race'.

I finally collapse,

And slowly hit the ground,

Releasing the hold on my throat,

Letting myself be bound.

I woke up in a room,

Restricted to the wall,

I look down where there is no ground,

And cling to the wall, to not fall.

I can see him floating,

And checking on his scrolls,

Making all of us sign our names,

Giving him possession of our souls.

I close my eyes and touch my throat,

Thinking I'd feel the sticky blood,

I place my hand flat against it,

But the blood's completely gone.

I can feel his stare,

Seeping through my skin,

He's probably norrowing his eyes,

Enjoying me being pinned.

I feel his eyes retreat,

Finally going away,

While Death is occupied, I break my chains,

And run for my escape.