PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

As the knife takes flight,

It enters its destination at perfect time,

Slowly penetrating the weak build of the cells,

The break causes the blood cells to poor down his body,

All covered with the pool of internal water,

He attempts to get up,

But he no longer has the strength,

The sharp blade has imbedded a mark on him forever,

Causing his soul to slowly leave his body,

No longer existing in this world.



His body now sleeping in the shallow ground,

Breathing the dirt in which it lays,

Rotting and wasting.

The slow deterriation of his body preceding,

Only eventually to his complete instinction.

Yet his soul has not left to a better place,

His soul so damaged by his death,

Has gone with him to rot,

To die,

The soul,

Dies with the man.