Ofttimes, I yearn the frigid taste of death –

How sweet and punishing its kiss ‘pon me!

But like a maiden bade to wed, I wait

For death to come for me, rather I it;

For life is greed, lust toils, and hearts seek mates.

Yet, so oft dying allures, Life doth be;

And surely sure, I find more rest in breath.


Eagles soar in search

Of prey; of life to feed from

In freedom’s torn cost.


Do not be troubled; smile and frolic free.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s