Death

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  • Death

    Death

    Death, my ever present companion,
    though I do not fear him, I am afraid!

    Death, walks in the shadows, stalking, waiting,
    always ready to steal another soul.

    Death, he has no ethics, be you young or old,
    you can still feel his icey fingers.

    Death, I have touched him, he sent a chill
    through me, as I've never before imagined.

    I have looked death in the face and saw nothing,
    but an ever expanding void.

    Death, I know someday you shall have me,
    but you will gain no satisfaction, for I shall die bravely.

    Death, not the end, but a beginning!

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    skyhallow123 commented on Death

    02-13-2014

    Beautifully written poem. Clear message and an important one as well. Good job :)

    Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    rollerderby’s Poems (36)

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