Death
This is NOT my poem, this is a collaboration between me and the wonderful poet Dean Kuch, please visit his profile and follow him for more content like this.
Death's a foul beast, both fiendish and fair,
hiding in shadows, deep down in his lair.
When it's your time, death's osseous grin
chills to the bone, goosebumps on your skin.
An eye for an eye—death's sockets, so black,
comes for us all; there is no turning back.
Life is a race we run, best we can.
Still, in the end, each child, woman and man
will one day face the inevitable truth,
looking back fondly, those days spent in youth.
Hopefully rich in love, family and friends
with no regrets before our soul transcends.
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Comments
Hi double anonymous, just left Dean a comment saying that he should write a full on horror. You co write well. Just saying.Â
Thank you so much Mr. Nigel! I appreciate the compliment, but Mr. Dean did most of the work on the poem, I simply gave the idea. He insisted I post it as a collaborative poem, but this poem really is a work of his. Thank you so much for going and commenting on his poems.
-Anonymous Anonymous