PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Closing in, I sharpen my spear, controlling your fear, there can be no excape from here.

You light your fire in the rain, no surprise, it shall never take flame.

You plan, you plot, but in the end you are taken by death's garotte, left alone, alone to rot.

You swim forward despite the current, ready to be taken, one of the reaper's beloved.

Never ending, forever bending, your steel is broken, your life nothing but a token.

You try to cool the flame, but are reduced to ash, why even try? They always asked.

Your voyage nears is end, all your frieds are gone, the ship you stand upon, going, going, gone.

You try to climb with nothing to hold, you fall and die like the rest of your fold.

A weakening voice, a hoarse cry, you are left on this earth as the rest soar into the sky.

You try to soar with no wings, doomed to fail, you fall impaled.

A hopeless quest, bottomless pit, light fades as you carry on with it.

You try to keep running with no more fuel, you break down and collapse like a pitiful fool.

The night is drawing near, your dying light is just an ember...

Mere.