Only Death Poem by Peri Morgan

Plurimus populus vereor nex, ego specto is per patefacio telum.


All that I fear arises like bile,
up through my chest leaving me vile,
corrupt and dangerous, demons in my mind,
peace and serenity so hard to find,
when I'm feeling like this, all alone,
no-one can help all hope has gone,
but why must I be forsaken?
Am I just dreaming? When will I awaken?
From this nightmare I can not escape,
my mind tortured by psychological rape,
but hark what is that mystical voice?
Can it save me? Shall I rejoice?
That sound alone stole my very breath,
oh wait, hang on, it's only death.