A Thought of Death

Death – you cruel mystery!

The sweet worlds of many you shatter

Of loved ones – friends and family

Yet to you it doesn’t even matter.

 

Unfinished are the dreams of they

On whom you plant the icy kiss

That drains the breath of life away

And leaves a sign of your malice.

 

When my hours will have run their course

And the hue around will fade to gray

Be it at play or midst my chores

You may find me unafraid, I pray

For somehow you my life will claim

And I wouldn’t realize until it’s late

Yet my spirit lives free and will remain

Unconquered by the scythe of fate.

 

 

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