Last Breathe

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

A poem i thought, miht give some thoughts bout certain things we often take for granted

Submitted: November 21, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 21, 2017



     Last Breathe


Help I Cry

Death is here

No more fly

Health is queer


All self is dying

Ego, Spirit, body

Call to reclaim rising

I do, of personal country


Glory ceasing of existence

Memories withdrawing

Truly releasing all magnificence

Of centuries of pain releasing


All unto me.

Unacceptable it must

Fall I should not cross me

Unrepentant it must


My soul immortal it was

Prestige, fame, honour

Bestow gloryful goods

Merit, game, struggle


Above laws or nature and men

So I thought, based on skill alone

Beyond the punishment of lower ones then

Cold and hard, refusing to atone

Now my being is ceasing

Soul never reaching flight

Loud I cry for mercy and decreasing

Of world ever reaching nought


Praising himself for breathing

Thinking it’s work of my own

Forgetting self to consider openness

Quickly, it ends with cancellation of my show

Watching is Mother Earth with stoic glancing



Disappearing inevitably

Tears, regret, confusion

Coming inevitably


Pain of the soul, spirit, mind

Last thoughts as I

Lay my Last Breathe.



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