The Breath Of Death Poem by Rachel Byrum
The Breath Of Death
Winter time
Splinter time
Fingers cracked
Icy cold
Reaches in
While darkness closes in the din
Fire light
And candle light
Light the way into the night
Beacons of hope
Beacons of death
White breath
The breath of death
Whispers out
Calling out
Names near death
Our loved ones my dear
Does that make it anymore clear
Shivers running down a spine
Little hairs
Stand on end
When death whispers out your name
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/24/2024 12:28:18 PM # 1.0.0.1119
