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Poems On / About DEATH  5/27/2016 5:23:38 AM
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Best Poems About / On DEATH
 
 
 
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  89.     

Kid Games

Death comes to fast for you to enjoy. I don't have time to be friend him. He takes everything with him leaving nothing but if you have nothing then you have nothing to lose. Death is something to look forward to but like death I move to fast. It's a race till the end. The question I ask is how can it end without a finish line. I don't run from death I know he's coming but I'm not going to wait for him. He has to work his way up to me. I will not stop and neather will he. He is like a friend that I play a game with. The game of life and death.
 
Beautifully Chaotic

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  90.     

Time's Eyes

We live in death and Death lives in us... We have no choice, but To surrender to death's Hands anywhere and everywhere... We struggle in life for good, but Life beats up strongly... We do our best, but We can not avoid things... Death is greatly and fully inevitable Any kind we might face anytime... Even in our dreams, We die like all creatures... Time pressures us To go ahead with everyone and everything... The more we go forward in life, The more we come closer to our inevitable death... Time's eyes keep watching us arrogantly Just to prey on us fully... We have to give up and We have to yield to time's supreme authority Before time invades us with all of Its great power... We are merely here just Like passer-byes... We are only passer-byes... This is life around us... ______________________________________________________________________
 
MOHAMMAD SKATI

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  91.     

A Dead Conscience

When one's conscience dies, then Everything becomes possible... That inevitable death awaits those Pretty emigrants who paid A lot of money to those criminal smugglers Just to take them into that bitter and ugly death... Either you get a visa or To get a journey in one of those Boats of death... Those hopeless emigrants pay for their deaths And that's the irony... We live in a brainless, shameless, absurd, and Even an ugly world that does not care about Human life at all... Those drowned emigrants chose to risk Their innocent lives rather than To come closer to any consulate's door Simply because they have already known the answer... Crocodiles' tears don't help restore All lost lives including those little babies Who share death together... I denounce and I condemn any dead conscience Simply because it's out of order and It's out of work... Only smugglers get richer and That treacherous sea's belly gets fatter With the drowned emigrants' corpses... It's a shame on a dead conscience Again and again! ! ! ______________________________________________________________________
 
MOHAMMAD SKATI

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  92.     

But Atleast Love Me When I'm Alive

I really wouldn't mind it even an infinitesimal trifle; if you salaciously chose to and forever buried my body an infinite feet beneath the surface of tawdrily fetid earth; after my breath had died and my wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even an inconspicuous trifle; if you barbarously chose to and forever kept my body in the cold-bloodedly heartless freezer; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even an insouciant trifle; if you mercilessly chose to and forever kept my body on the treacherously vulture laden terrace; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even a diminutive trifle; if satanically chose to and forever kept chopping my body into a countless pieces of nothingness; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even an ethereal trifle; if you diabolically chose to and forever burnt my body on the most vindictively smoldering embers of iron; after
my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even an evanescent trifle; if you demonically chose to and forever cemented my body into the asphyxiatingly penurious hollows of the
wall; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even a teeny trifle; if you sadistically chose to and forever trampled my body with your uncouthly bohemian shoe; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even a mercurial trifle; if you intolerably chose to and forever kept submerging my body into the most violently blistering of acid; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even a fugitive trifle; if you venomously chose to and forever bombarded my body with the most ruthlessly excoriating of bombs; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even a vespered trifle; if you sinfully chose to and forever fed my body to the most pugnaciously stinking of pigs; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even an obfuscated trifle; if you ominously chose to and forever spat on my body the most ignominiously ludicrous of your spit; after
my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even a teeny trifle; if you tyrannically chose to and forever crushed my body under the most atrociously rampaging bulldozer; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even a transient trifle; if you hedonistically chose to and forever kept my body pathetically strangulated in the most wretchedly preposterous of coffin; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even an oblivious trifle; if you forlornly chose to and forever stitched every pore of my body with the most horrendously bellicose of thread; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even a flickering trifle; if you wickedly chose to and forever plundered my body with an infinite blood-curling nails; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even a truncated trifle; if you dementedly chose to and forever dissected every minute cranny of my body to tingle your perverted
senses; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even a cloistered trifle; if you viciously chose to and forever suspended my body ridiculously upside down from the scorpion studded ceiling; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even a pallid trifle; if you horrifically chose to and forever tossed my body to the unsurpassably emaciated sharks; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even a non-existent trifle; if you deliriously chose to and forever ate every bone from the skeleton of my body for nocturnal supper; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

I really wouldn't mind it even an invisible trifle; if you criminally chose to and forever kept my body in a region of haplessly disoriented vacuum; where there existed no land or holistic space; after my breath had died and wholesome death,

O! Yes; I really wouldn't mind it even a quavering trifle; if you unforgivably chose and forever did whatever you wanted with every part of my body after my breath had died and wholesome death; whether you torturously crucified me in ghastly hell or stabbed me an infinite times; an infinite kilometers even beyond its amorphous realms,

But atleast love me when I'm alive.
 
Nikhil Parekh

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Poems On / About DEATH