DEATH.

by Becca Clarke   Oct 31, 2003


Nor dread nor hope attend
A dying animal;
A man awaits his end
Dreading and hoping all;
Many times he died,
Many times he rose again.
A great man in his pride
Confronting murderous men
Casts derision upon
Supersession of breath;
he knows death to the bone
Man has created death.

write a comment.

0


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 20 years ago

    by Katie McCullick

    This poem was ok. I vote on ability and I've seen better poems by so I only gave it a 3.