Madness of Death
If life just runs away
when death starts to stray
to close to the one just alive
then don't we die?
As the sky falls down around us
we feel the pressure
yes, we are sure
that death is here
He wants our souls
and he hungers for our blood
as it easily floods
down his chin to the floor.
He is a monster beautiful and sinister
as our desires manifest
into something elegant and foul.
Death stands quitely there
with a smirk on his lips
and a howl in his throat
easily ready to sing and gloat.
Of his success with making
madmen with evil hearts
and sinister desires
that rival even his.
Mad he is, not in anger
or jealousy, but in insanity
He carries no inkling of humanity
taking all of us and making us his.
He pulls his strings
shatters our limbs
still we always come back
to his bittersweet claws.
We return because we must
we return because he accepts us
we go back for many a reason
but the most known is that we are equal in treason.
We share our hopelessness
we share our blood
we share our kills
we share our damnation,
and we share this poem about the dead and death.
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