Death Poem by Peter Cloutier

Death is immortal...
It slowly eats away at you like a plague,
dissolving all that is good like acid.
From the moment you open your eyes you're nailed with a tag,
it dares not to nag as it has already marked you.
Staulks you wherever you go,
fading out of sight whenever you turn to see,
whether somethings been following you and what it would be.

It burns in the heart...
continuesly firing bullets of pain,
very often loved ones are caught in the line of fire.
There is little gain included,
with the fierceness of its reign.
It kills those affected within,
tearing away the goodness of life,
making you think of your every sin,
forcing you to think of where you are and where you've been.

Death is like a disease...
it strikes like a preditor,
waiting for its meal.
drawing sad faces around,
strengthening its grip and then pulling you down.
Eventually everyone is giving up the fight,
debating over what's wrong or right.
Offering it the chance to get a better grip,
Then, Death pulls with all its might!

** The previous poem was written on January 4th,2007 **