Death


Those times are dead
When you I did dread;
Just when I discovered
You are but a final halt;
I could sense your vacuity,
And perceive your vanity;
Plentiful people in your cold clutches,
Whom truly you had subdued,
That they could no more relate
How fierce on them your grip,
Indeed betrays your limitedness;
Those eyes you had earlier shut,
Couldn’t again behold your vainglory;
See those lips you had sealed,
Slowly parting in silent whispers,
In defiant mockery of you;
Who again will proclaim your might?
The living loathe you;
The dead detest you;
Watch the victims you had vanquished,
Snoring away in a restful sleep.

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