They say death is the end,
But I don't think so,
Death's an old friend,
Waiting for us to go,
Away from this realm,
When our job's over,
The world seems a dream,
That keeps on going forever.
They say death is dark,
As dark as coal,
Extinguishing life's spark,
Dragging into it's hole,
Little do they realize,
That this is nature's law,
So, why're they surprised,
For it's like this since long ago?
They consider death macabre,
For it's the final end,
Like a sharpened saber,
Cutting the delicate thread,
But though it may seem,
That death's always macabre,
But it does itself redeem,
By bringing a new future.
Strangely, I find myself at peace,
When I am not at ease,
I request death, oh please!
Have me from my bonds release!
Silently, death does it's duty,
Therein lies it's macabre beauty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is quite a lovely poem, which presents the reader with the ultimate question whether life goes beyond the grave or not. And death plays the role of a star gate... I like the structure of the poem, it has rhythm and natural flow. Good write. ~Besa