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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a poem about what death is and the signals it gives before it comes.However ,the is nothing we can do about it.

Submitted: March 01, 2013

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Submitted: March 01, 2013



Every time I sleep; pains on my brain’

Abolishing my heart n soul lord escort my vein

From the bounded clouds of this mournful pain

I can’t predict the weather nor the range of the rain

But hope for the station of this moving train

Thou death is sometimes rude & so insane

Life remains a distance between birth & death

That exists deep down in the palms of earth

Demise, demise, demise; roll your unmerciful dice

 Flutter with our lives as we stare with horrified eyes

 Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, statue into dense ice

 Nothing panels your path nor human’s wealth

Wicked calamity that neither cares of people’s health

 Guilty & innocent souls shall rest on your misty throne

Plans & creatures will bow & obey to the sound of your tone
 Yet no grave, on the roots of earth, shall hold my corpse down
I’ll dwell with divine cherubs of warmth, & wear my sacred crown
Emulating implausible angels in the closed doors of heavens town
So wipe your worthless tears, & rinse my ashes with frosty plums

Blustering monumental trumpets, accompanied by mourning drums

While the faultless treasure chest slumps down the mastery ground

As I tumble in a dim cavernous ocean aiding my soul to rebound


Gushing tears won’t refurbish dull coats munched in the idols grave

Bloated hearts shall be restored by comforting pals that are brave 

The sprinkling gates of heaven will sanctify my bones with streams

Consigning my precious soul to a land filled with endless dreams

Confessing all my transgressions; as I knock on the heavens door

While my corpse respite calm on the arctic layers of my odd floor





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