deepundergroundpoetry.com
Our Frantic Dance
Death stands near, covered in her cloak of darkness
looking on with admiration at our frantic dance.
Does she marvel at how we vainly seek what can never be ours?
How puzzling she must find humans,
always approaching our deaths
with desire for one more hour of life.
looking on with admiration at our frantic dance.
Does she marvel at how we vainly seek what can never be ours?
How puzzling she must find humans,
always approaching our deaths
with desire for one more hour of life.
Published 24th Mar 2023
Author's Note
The first line of this poem was sent by mother as a text with no explanation and no response from my questions. While waiting for any response from her, I did a graphic that captured my thoughts. Every thought of her is dark right now. - Nizana's Daughter
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 5
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
24th Mar 2023 2:21pm
Anonymous
- Edited 26th Aug 2023 5:45pm
24th Mar 2023 2:40pm
<< post removed >>
25th Mar 2023 9:17pm
Thank you for the kind comment. I will continue updates especially if I hear from mother. - Nizana's Daughter
24th Mar 2023 2:41pm
Death and sex is hot. Death could be used to describe a sexual orgasm. Keep on writing.
Anonymous
- Edited 2nd Jul 2023 5:45pm
25th Mar 2023 3:56am
<< post removed >>
25th Mar 2023 7:53pm
I agree with Cathedral. I never considered the two to be anything near hot, although I know some others do. Your poem makes me very curious.
It’s well written of course. So much so that I’ve read a few times.
It’s well written of course. So much so that I’ve read a few times.
