Standing with smile,
He’s staring me down,
In between us only a mile,
With that upside down frown.
I can feel his dark soul,
When he walks to me.
He’s like a black hole,
Setting me free.
A place of black, is where I stand,
he gets his grip,
With his darkness land.
He spoke, a voice so low,
“It’s your time to die.”
I can never go,
Can’t even fly.
Death to me he led,
Teaching me to be mean.
He’s creating me from a seed,
Evil of which the way I lean.
On the day that I died,
A guy named death is who came.
I tried to stay alive, I tried.
And yet died with no shame.
He reached out his hand,
Through the harden ground
And pull me to where I stand
He said “I need you to turn around”
There that time I died,
I would live for a life.
I thought I survived
Until I became death’s right hand wife.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem