Death is alive,
More than before.
He's the stealer of breaths,
And the seeker of thrills.
He watches the deceased,
And takes all the spirits.
He wears no shoes,
But walks as if indestructible.
He sees what you fear,
And says it's okay.
He sings a few songs,
To accompany the dead.
Perhaps it is wrong
To say that he is bad.
For he is so grand,
And highly in demand.
This misunderstood creature,
Is all that stands
Between life and death,
Illusion and reality.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
Poetry"The universe kissed the stars, who birthed a galaxy of new beginnings." The only way to express beautiful and cynical thoughts is through the delightful invention of simple, and yet complex, poetry. My poems never end, have no defined theme and st...
