Creation and life,
can all be broken,
with a kitchen knife
and all that’s left, is a token
A harem of death,
stringing us far out,
one last broken breath,
and I will not pout
Fighting so hard for peace in life,
when you know it won’t work,
and it’s only an inch from Death’s Scythe
because in the shadows we lurk
One last idea for my end,
a broken pace in my heart,
and a message I will send,
when life decides to rip apart
I shall call this piece.. Death.
