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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1714515
A poem from my teen years, as it was originally written.
O, Death, how great Thy life must be;
Dark and safe, no misery.
The living understandeth not
The wonderful things
that Thou hath wrought
Upon this earth and far beyond
Back through time,
from whence Thou donned
Thy cloak of black, scythe in hand
To reign evermore across the land.

djs '85
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