Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2014
We sleep to dream we live to breath
Is afterlife both when we reach death?
I contemplate at constant rate
A constant state no one can relate
Eyes closed now, an estranged discomfort
Darkness is close, so strange it comforts
A touch from death is softer than satin
The afterlife, such ****** Latin.
Written by
Stephen Sage
2.0k
     Moonlight and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems