Death is like the coils of a snake.
They press your chest so much that you cant breath.
You think your going to see you life flash in front of your eyes.
Well, it dose BUT you only see the bad part of your life.
You see things that dont scear you but make you happy.
You see yourself killing me and that the one thing that makes you truely happy.
As the coils then make you not breathany more,
Then it stops killing and feeling your happy that you killed someone.
So it stops and gose to find a poor soul like i was.
And thats the coils of DEATH.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A deep message from a young poet