The Coming Of Death Poem by Vyangel Aorabee
The Coming Of Death
I hear its voice
Approaching my scope
I hear its ruffling footsteps
Walking through my door
Wildly opening it's arms
I feel it's spikey claws crawling on me
Digging deep inside me
Pouching my soul
And neglecting my body on an old mat
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4/11/2026 5:11:47 PM # 1.0.0
