deepundergroundpoetry.com

Sleep - Hiding From The Touch Of Death

A slight chill disturbs the warm air
A change is coming but it treats life so unfair

What a scene, my eyes stop to stare
On a mountain my eyes behold a living flare

Though he's dying he doesn't care
for he knows one day he'll become his own heir

Now I sit in my rocking chair
Watching Life and Death consummate their love affair

He's given a chance to prepare
Then again it seems more like war that they declare

As Fates hand strips his body bare
Over and over death is met without a prayer

Out beyond the snow and the glare
In the field I see a skeleton over there
Written by Poetryman
Published
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