Death spoke

A poem

By Lane BurnsPublished about a year ago • 1 min read

I had a conversation with death the other day,

I sat and listened to what he had to say.

But even as he spoke about time,

I had to sigh and ask him why.

He looked at me and and frowned,

For it was not him making us drowned.

While he would come for us all in time,

Humans were the ones committing this crime.

Coving the world with violence and decay,

Just to claim their own horrid way.

Taking souls who should not go,

And turning them into a deadly flow.

And from his eyes I saw great tears fly,

As he recounted all the lives that die.

Well before their desired time,

Wishing he could change it this time.

But just as I was losing hope,

He told me something to cope.

That even if we were not ready

He’d stay and sit until we were steady

And once we could stand,

He lead us to some new land.

I am a Poet and an inspiring short story, one day novel writer.

I like to write in free verse mostly, but am heavily inspired by Emily Dickenson, and tend to create my own rules and ideas as well.

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.