The feel of your cold, harsh breath
The brush of your pale, thin hand
I sense you coming,
I feel you near.
The sight of your shimmering slanted blade.
The sound of your footsteps, too light to tell if you’re really there
Death at the door, and I am ready.
Kaitlyn Mae Henning
This my favie of yours...tis fabba fab fab. I love 'cold harsh breath'! I can just feeeel that in my bones...plus I like things I can randomly associate with other things, and this makes me think of 'Don't Fear the Reaper' and a book called Keturah and Lord Death, so basically...this poem is made of WIN! ! ! ! ! ! !
Kaitlyn, I would just as soon put off that visit for a long time! Interesting poem. Best Wishes, Marilyn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The way you use 'breath' in the first line and 'brush' in the second helps them flow coheasively. Puuuuur-fect.: ] This poem is full of suspense and the emotion is intense. I love the last line.