Waiting For Death

Done.

Done with

this world

and all

it has become.

 

Waiting

for Death

with its

beating

Drum

To come,

Come,

Come,

Come!

 

Waiting for

Death

with its thin

Silver-white

Violins

whirring

wildly,

wailing

the song

that has

been played

for endless

eternity...

 

Just waiting

for Death,

with its

beating

Drum

and wild

Violins

to come,

Come,

Come!






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NiyahSymoneThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
today at 11:23 am
Disclaimer: In all honesty, this poem is not a "cry for help", nor are any other poems with Death in the title. These poems are entirely fictional and are not how I feel in any way, shape, or form.
 
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