Death is creeping in,
I can feel it deep within.
I may not have much longer,
But can I still be stronger?
Escape death, I must!
Now he's free and had his fun,
I'm now to frail to turn and run!
Have I lived as I desired?
Before he puts out my fire,
And I become dust.
My nightmare has become reality,
I've lost any sense of morality.
Games he's played, lives he's won
I know it weighs well over a ton!
And now I relinquish all fun,
Now I begin to rust.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A solid poem with good merit. Well done Issac! ! !