Death's poems

Poems about death. Enough said.


2. Dedicated to my fans

His eyes are hollow

And his hood has fallen

from his head.


Some gasp in horror,

Some cry in disbelief.

I just stare in awe.


For Death is horrible,

hurtfull and sad.

For me he is simply



His features handsome,

cold and presice.

His dark hair frames

his high cheekbones.


His black clothes

cling to his body and seem

to be stitched from tortured

souls of the dead.


A smile plays along his icy lips

and a pale hand is held out.

I am not afraid so I take it.


I am the first of us all.

Show me what you will,

because I do not fear darkness.

His smile streches wider

and his deadly beauty leads me to the end.

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