Saturday, June 29, 2013

In the dungeon of my friend Death

In the dungeon, I was left for dead
With the Dead, did they make my bed
My Light was nowhere to be found
In utter darkness, I groped for a way
Darkness was my morning breakfast
And night was my supper of death

Life’s light had no meaning at all
Strange were the ways of men
When men looked at me; they spat
And shook their heads in sadness
Oh! how has the mighty I, fallen
And the strength of my youth; Crushed

Death hovered above my pathetic soul
But came not down to take me away
Many times prayed I; that it takes me
Oh Death, oh death, sting me now!
Where art thy venomous arrows?
That, sons of men see and flee before thee

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