• pen_and_paper 37w

    I wrote this last night.

    Writing about so long, that's why this lame.

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    Slice of death

    They cry when someone,
    among the community dies
    a subtle death,
    easy or harsh doesn't matter often,
    even you're completely useless,
    people catch feelings,
    if you lift your drop
    of tear and let it touch em
    before it hits the floor.

    They cry in roads
    when someone of their own dies
    death isn't beautiful as they claim,
    when they're pretty far away,
    from the Sunset.

    Death is dark,
    death is end
    of everything you hold,
    your consiousness,
    death is fear
    of being alone
    and what if someone dies twice,
    one for the sorrow of the people,
    another in the afterlife,
    death is a pond
    of marsh,
    You won't see
    in the quicksand.
    Death is the end,
    like a star dying of it's light.

    Death is the spillway of tears,
    and I can't be sadder about life too.