Doth thou knoweth of death's sin?
For death himself hath sinned.
In the name of all that he finds beautiful,
Death hath sinned.
His sin is that of gluttony,
Constantly reaping more than his harvest.
The souls of many more than should,
Hath already fallen into his bale.
For even death himself may sin.
Of all the seven,
Death hath found a single for himself.
Maybe they shalt find more,
For it is only human to sin.
Even death should be provided the chance,
To become what we already are.
Human.
YOU ARE READING
Words to match a Rose
PoetryJust some poems I wrote, felt like it I guess. Fight me about it. #57 highest in poetry. :D Wooo! Hit them double digits! Picture by my friend Cynthia Bisby from work :D
