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The coming of death


Submitted:Jul 18, 2014    Reads: 28    Comments: 11    Likes: 6   


Who art thou

That brings thus death

Doth rob me of my final breath

Why so soon to meet thy keeper

Begone for now Grim Reaper

Ye stand their with thy face so sallow

And bony fingers gesturing follow

If it's my soul thee wish to take

Then leave me be till I awake

Thus night was like no other

Thyself I could not save

As I lay here in this box

In a wretched hole thy call

my grave.

©

Mr.Watson

July 2014





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