Death will come
like a sweet white rose
or a gift with wrappings
that will slowly enclose me
and ribbons to strangle
and bows
Death will come
with thorns to pierce
my black heart
A surprise party
an unexpected prize
and I honoured in mahogany
or teak
take a peek
before flames enfold me
and I depart
I have always equated annihilation
with crashing through dead walls
and wanting to stay
But death will come
while I still waiting
am hating the silence
and fate will take me
calmly away
without a sound
© Carlton Carr 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem