Death: Hate it or love it?

by Sirkka / Selene   Dec 18, 2005


You can't avoid it,
especially not this.
We call him"The death"
Cause that is what he is.

With razor sharp wings,
he flys trough our lives.
Kills and destroys,
loves lies.

Nor north, nor east,
nor south, nor west.
He never takes a minute rest.

He is here,
and yet he isn't.
Invisible,
but always around.

He might hear you,
so don't speak to loud.
And then it's to late,
you're candle is out.

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Latest Comments

  • 18 years ago

    by enfant du tordu chagrin

    Hey another good poem, the rhyming is once again good, as is the rythmn. lol once again a spelling mistake on through, and i think u meant to use "too" instead of "to" in a couple of places, but really really good, keep writing!!!

  • 18 years ago

    by Tine

    That's waaauw, once again!! :D I guess u r making a style out of it, these fantastic poems!!
    k, ff int ned e :) euhm, kvind da u gedichten dus echt wel keigoed zijn, ze rijmen altijd mooi, het onderwerp is goed gekoze; elke keer, kortom; perfect!!
    I just can't wait to read more!!

    x

  • 18 years ago

    by .+*Jess*+.

    Great poem i like the line about the razor sharp wings it gives a good image

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