PoetrySad Poems

The Death Hunter

Under the tribulations of fate,
Life down the memory lane,
I lost a part of me,
Deep down I felt empty,
Not even the tears I shed could carry the pain away,
Nor the amounts of joints I lit could make me higher than the clouds rise up and see you,
and hold your hand one more time,
Not even the numerous friends with their words could comfort me,
Not even the many poetic pieces could find the words to describe how I felt,

I had a conversation with death, on the table of sadness
Questions of pains clouded my judgement,
I wanted to strangle it to death,
No reasons were enough to compliment the reasons for death,
Was it the wages of sin?
What did we do to deserve
This?
So I’m down, powerless, on my own,
Surrounded by these four walls,
This is my prison, prison of thought,
This is because in here I get the chance to go to heaven, to talk to the angels, and in hell, to talk to the devils all in my head,
I want to be the death hunter,
Kill it so it knows what death is, I want to kill it so that the relatives also mourn in pain, helpless,
Destroy it so that one day the world is free of death,
Kill it so that it remains history
Kill it so one day the will say
Once there was death,
I want to be the death hunter

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