My cunning death, you inspire me to write.
I love the way you kill, squeak and slither,
Invading my mind day and through the night,
Always dreaming about the big dither.
Let me compare you to a rosary?
You are way more creepy, powerful and bad.
Snow chills the berries of January,
And wintertime has the golden crown land.
How do I love you? Let me count the ways.
I love your bold attitude and humour.
Thinking of your loathsome hands fill my days.
My love for you is the slightest rumour.
Now I must away with a sleepy heart,
Remember my mild words whilst we're apart.
I love you so much, my dear death!
YOU ARE READING
Reaper In The Dusk.
Poetry| Compilation of poems about depression｜ I present you the wounds that never showed on me which are deeper than anything that bleeds. This is my only chance to escape free a penalty for my deeds. My head is a very dark place. Which needs to be cared...
