Dying
At life's final sorry endshe comes on mighty wings.
She picks me up carefully
and to me gently sings.
A lullaby of calm and quiet
of peace eternally.
And in my ear she whispers
"Together finally".
Her skin is polished marmor
her eyes forever deep
So in Death's loving arms
I gently fall asleep.
Poetry by Karl-Johan
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Written on 2008-09-22 at 19:19
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Elle |
Daybreaker |
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