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The hero lay on his bed, tired and forlorn.
All his body burnt, oozing wounds and torn
Tearful eyes blaming his fate,
His dreams shattered and desecrate.
Death now came wearing its veil,
To make its final assail.
Knowing it was a shameful act,
The hero’s life, death could not extract.
Weeping stealthily it now sat in a corner,
Knowingly becoming the hero’s mourner.
Then suddenly it rose with rented audacity,
For it could not bear its own act of profanity.
With one swift and furtive motion,
Depriving itself of any emotion,
Carrying the life of the hero it fled,
But forever its heart bled……

By Mrunal

nice

Wow who knew
death had feelings. Cool poem

Such a different topic! amazing

No! Death shouldn't have done it! Even in these few words, I didn't want Death to take his life. Nicely done, interesting idea that Death would even care.

Kris5911 wrote: ↑19 Jul 2019, 16:49 No! Death shouldn't have done it! Even in these few words, I didn't want Death to take his life. Nicely done, interesting idea that Death would even care.

Thank you for the kind words. I wish death hadn’t don’t it as well!