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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1663194
A poem of despair.


.





I have seen so much fear.

I have cried, more than ,

my share of tears.

I have struggled with

immortal dread.

I have loved,

and been torn to shreds.



What does this mortal body hold?

It is not warmth, for I am always cold.

The reaper is at my door.

Fear him, I do not anymore.

Hell has wrapped me,

in her painful web.

Grim reaper come, I want to be dead.



What does the window of this soul,

reflect?

Darkness.

Pain.

We drown our pain with tears.

We try to hide our fears.

Is it to hide, what is on the inside?



I will not play this game.

NO MORE.

Grim reaper, you know the score.



( penned by Deadserious )
© Copyright 2010 Deadserious (deadserious at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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