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She knew that death had come for her,
with grimly eyes and a cold face.
"I want to see your travels!" Those were his last words to her,
before she departed,
with fear acting like a puppeteer.
She thinks of her brother in the midst of great pain,
with blood from head to ear,
wishing that he could be here.
This zombie made a mess of her,
with razor teeth and pointed talons.
She would not see a funeral,
with flowers and mourning faces.
Death was cold,
death,
at its best,
was lonely.
- by bacchanalia bunny |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 09/26/2014 |
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- Title: Death at its best.
- Artist: bacchanalia bunny
- Description: I recently had to kill off a character who was very dear to me, and I'm in quite the emotional wreck about it, so I decided to express my pain via poetry.
- Date: 09/26/2014
- Tags: death best
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