Ode To The Reaper by Jessica Stamps
Death.
It's like the everlasting stench of cheap perfume,
Swirling around your brain until you meet your doom.
Death.
There is no hidden door for you to escape.
Death is intertwined with fate.
Some die peaceful.
Some die mad.
Some die alone.
Others die sad.
When darkness envelopes you and you take your last breath,
One word will plague your mind.
That one word is death.
It's like the everlasting stench of cheap perfume,
Swirling around your brain until you meet your doom.
Death.
There is no hidden door for you to escape.
Death is intertwined with fate.
Some die peaceful.
Some die mad.
Some die alone.
Others die sad.
When darkness envelopes you and you take your last breath,
One word will plague your mind.
That one word is death.
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Rating: B- |
Everyone knows that there is no way to escape death. This poem puts the morbid truth of death into words and reflects our inner fears about dying that we keep hidden from others.
