The Mark of Death: A Shared Fate
In the distance, a hearth
Drawing me
A beacon solely
A tailor fitted solution
To cast worries and inabitions
Tips froze, paralyzed
A cacoffiny of loneliness
but saftey
A limping deer babe
Seldom do you see alive
For they rarely last
So I guess this is goodbye
I have to wonder why
All I did was cry
All of these years
It is in our esscense to die
But in the fall
That might be why
This poem is about:
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: