I wake up in the mornWith my eyes so dampA knot in the stomachAlmost like a cramp. I walk up to the mirrorExpecting a look as sore,But they are just the feelingsThat are crawling up my core. And the previous mishaps that are Irrelevant today,Are trotting to my silly mindIt’s something I want to say. […]
It’s takes a lot, “to imagine that death can be a freind”, and that he wants to stands beside you.
When life has already abandoned you for better or worse. It is so, “or is it more like being confined within mortalities wooden box” .
Death He does, stand in shadow awaiting he’s friends arrival. He stands all in black, as he did in mournings colour, before he take away lifes last breath.
He dos offer you his friendship without any dependency attached.
This is a poem from the electronic pen of M. L. Behan. All copyright is the property of firstname.lastname@example.orgThe angel to me!