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Literature Text
Death strives to slay her last
weak prey, but not so fast
indeed she is slowed down
by that anguished soul's past
she watches herself drown
in memories and thoughts
As the dying man spots
a fleeting sign of hope
his visage slowly rots
Death swiftly wraps a rope
around the ill man's neck
while whispering: "fear not
my newborn child, stand still!"
His skull she starts to wreck
As dark blood starts to spill
from ears nose mouth and eyes
Death, cackling, on his neck
heavily starts to peck
like a black Crow, the guise
under which She appears
No pity for the dead -
surrounded by the flies
the lifeless lump there lies
while Death other lives steers
weak prey, but not so fast
indeed she is slowed down
by that anguished soul's past
she watches herself drown
in memories and thoughts
As the dying man spots
a fleeting sign of hope
his visage slowly rots
Death swiftly wraps a rope
around the ill man's neck
while whispering: "fear not
my newborn child, stand still!"
His skull she starts to wreck
As dark blood starts to spill
from ears nose mouth and eyes
Death, cackling, on his neck
heavily starts to peck
like a black Crow, the guise
under which She appears
No pity for the dead -
surrounded by the flies
the lifeless lump there lies
while Death other lives steers
Comments2
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Your literary compositions are always enjoyable for me, and often color themselves so very well., even if the tones are dark and unsettling like this one. Excellent.