A Ballad for Death

A compilation of the first 500 poems I ever wrote.
I write in my free time accross different styles and themes, sometimes there are reasons to what I write and sometimes there are not, but I always try to follow my inspiration.


466. The end is coming

Can you feel it? Not cold, not scary nor painful,

Not quick but never far, neither here nor quite there,

Neither rotted away, nor highly beautiful,

Incredibly unjust but always ever fair,

Steps as light as feathers, yet as heavy as night,

Whether your door’s open or not, at the fourth knock

It will come in gently so not to cause a fright,

Though some may tempt a joke, none can quite truly mock

For, for all bravery, anyone knows foolish

To fly higher than stars or to cry a whole sea,

To trap love in a box or wild nature to free,

When one has never tried to sit down and relish

In a soft, gentle breeze under the sun’s caress,

To feel the world around, remember you possess.

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