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.


337. The eye

There is this unknown eye looming in the distance,

Glowing as bright as fire there, somewhere in the dark,

And I can never say when I shall see the spark

Or where it will appear, for all my resistance

I cannot ever seem to evade its cold gaze,

It appears not evil nor any kind of good

– In its heart I saw no wicked intention blaze –

Never getting closer but never going far,

It is always around near the edge of the wood

Brightly piercing the world as if a brand new scar.

Though I know its presence, though I know its features,

I know not its purpose, I know not the reason

Why hell, the heavens, or any of their creatures,

Would watch over my soul throughout every season.

The eye has its reasons which my reason knows not

And wondering further would just result in naught…

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