Death's Identity
Like flowing rivers beyond the trees,
in the jungle's canopy.
Underlying Entities unforeseen
to the bare eye.
At it's precipice it's true flaw arisen
to be seen and feared by many.
By waterfall or death that comes about
outcomes do not vary.
Screams, yelps, and worry
overcome us with sudden terror.
We shriek with sudden regret,
fearing the outcomes of choices.
But in the end we see the truth,
the identity and stimuli of our fright.
Just a simple, natural flow of time,
not to be frightening or grieved.
Death is life, a new beginning,
all flaw is washed away.
To grieve is pointless, a waste of time.
Move on.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
