Death waits for prey,
Death stalks, pounces then slays.
Death waits for no-one,
Death is an army of one.
Stalking, pouncing, stalking, pouncing,
That's what they say he does.
Running, stabbing, running, stabbing,
Killing is what Death loves.
Death can be black, death can be white,
Death can take to flight.
I hope you have enough breath,
I hope you've enjoyed my tale about death.
i like this poem its really nice. love it! ! ! ! ! Victoria A-K-A ~Fallen Angel~
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i did enjoy it, very good.