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Tags: Death, Love

Long time ago I wrote this as a poem. But since then I've been reading Dante's Inferno. Upon doing so I decided to rewrite this as a poem that tells a story. Of love and death. For I do love death and he shall be that which comes of me.

Submitted:Dec 7, 2011    Reads: 22    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

I knew not of his arrival

nor of my sin

yet illness beheld thy room

wall paper tasted the floor in agnoy

and his present raced a chill against my skin

Ashes shift to darkness which outline his body

giving him a ghostly figure

silence found a dead area to linger

like a knife it cut the air

And before dawn could ever find the moutains

words press the tension to a small box

he to I: 'I've come for my love.'

as this had been said no surprise fought to take me

It seem that praise had found truth

Each step come unnoticed

untill my body was within his boney arms

I to him: 'It's taken you year to return.'

even as I spoke those words

I regret them

He spoke: 'Yes I know my love, but my job

I wish to be here longer.

and yet I must fillful my duty.'

Bringing my lips to his

I planted a kiss among him

Then as if to bring him comfort I spoke:

'I know my dear Death. And so I am sorry.

It's just I've come to miss thee.'

He to I: 'I miss you too.'

Another kiss shared between our forbidden love

And so we layed upon thy bed

till the sun invade the virtue in the sky.


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