Death is a mercy, gifting one with true peace and silence,
bringing fear and sorrow, anguish and acrimony.
It stands on a pillar in the sky, poised with vigor from the stolen souls of all. It forms the into thrall of a maniacal adolescent, as it cackles with glee at the fallen. Death cares not for kindness or restraint, it's a persistent force that has never seen loss, and never will. Death holds venomous enmity towards living fragments and likes nothing better then to tear them apart in gruesome different ways. Possessing the weak of mind it points the gun, the knife, to the head and chest. The name of Death, a whisperer of animosity.
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Personal Poem List
PoetryThis will be where I write my poems from here on out. I do not have a specific agenda for releasing them, nor do I intend to publish them. This is just a document where I can place my thoughts down in the art of poetry. All of this is original work...
