Death takes many forms.
He can be harsh and cruel and cold
Or kind and merciful.
He takes people away,
Usually when the time comes.
Sometimes, the people even gave their permission for him to take them away.
Some even initiated it. Some were unaware of it.
Those were the ones that he truly mourn.
He mourns the absence of a bright-eyed child
In such a deep dark world.
For when the death knell strikes twelve,
A new world begins.
He watches as others try
to manage without the one taken away.
He watches as they try and save
The ones that were taken away.
He watches as they call upon divine intervention,
Going so far as to ruin their lives,
Just to give the ones they love a second chance to live.
He wanted to wipe their warm tears away.
He wanted to hug them and feel as the fight in them went out.
He wanted to take them away to a faraway place where they won’t hurt no more.
But it was not time for him to do so.
He waits until the end of time.
He is inevitable and yet he waits.
He may strike suddenly, but still;
I have personified Death in this second poem posted onto here. It seems that the first publication did not go through, so here is another one of my works written in boredom in literature class.
— The End —