PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

This is the Time of Dying


Faces blur as the room spins

Round and round it goes

Till you fall to the ground

Friends and family starts to fade

Life starts to loose grip

Reality hits you in the face

Love burst into little pieces

Hate takes over

Nothing left for you here

Soul disperse into the dark forest

Here he will greet you

Here he will place you

Here he will make torcher be like non other

Here he will give you a new meaning in pain

Here you will never forget all of the sins you committed

Here is where you will lie in the blistering cold

Here is where you will never know the meaning of Heaven

Of Peace and Prosper

This is Torcher

This is Pain

This is your worst nightmare

This is Hell

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.