Poem -

TO THE DEATH

TO THE DEATH

REMOVE YOUR SWORD FROM ITS SHEATH 
YOU SHADOW OF A MAN,
TODAY FROM EARTH’S FACE YOU WILL FLEE,
AS I SELL YOUR SOUL TO ETERNITY.

THOU HAS MENTIONED MY ANNABELLE’S NAME 
FOR THE VERY LAST TIME,
THUS, THY BREATH SHALL BE RETIRED
AND THY HEART, A TROPHY OF MINE.

LET THE HEAVENS SEE 
MY LOVE FOR HER,
AS THE EARTH SPUNGE 
YOUR PATHETIC BLOOD.

FROM HER FATHER’S HEART 
SHE WAS GIVEN TO ME,
AND ONLY BY DEATH,
SHALL OUR BOND BE DECEASED.

WILFORD BARKER.

 

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Comments

author
Being Me

There's a lot of passion in this, Wilford! 

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