Plague
A sickness, cold, solemn, black
Hides in my mind, waits for me to turn my back
It's slaughtered my family, my lovers, my mates
Now it is my turn, it schemes and it waits
It's plagued all the people, the young and old
It wishes to kill me, to turn my heart cold
But I fight it; I won't let it get under my skin
I will use my every defense, I can't let it win
"Love kills the demon," we all must know
So now is the time to let our hearts grow
Copyright © Alex Brown | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment