Friday, 27 July 2007

Mors Imortalis

Death Immortal

It Shall never end,
this death from within me,
and never ending,
spits on your faces,
reduces numbers in all races,
will always meet in the end,
drains your life like a pump,
turns you into nothing but slump,
a heap on the ground,you will make not a sound.

This process repetitive,
eventually you'll embrace the final sedative,
You'll die on one day,
and never dismay,
the fact that you've ended,
your soul has amended,
gone to that better place.

To look upon his face,
must cause terror within,
causing pain and disruption,
there is no extension,
there is only decension,
into a fiery pit,
or a holy eden,
wherever you go,
your body,
in time,
will be eaten!

The worms will crawl in,
and the maggots crawl out,
and cause all kinds of gout,
it will hurt not a bit,
so don't worry your head,
that to might fall off,
considering,you're dead.

1 comment:

  1. Love the irony in this poem, and the sarcasm in the last verse.