There's a figure in the forest
Where nothing grows.
There's a lady in the forest
Where the sun never reaches.
She stands there, so desolutely.
She waits there, so resolutely
For her only friend.
When they all left, he stayed.
When they all laughed, he comforted her.
So where has he gone now?
Will he come back?
She will wait forever, but life doesn't last forever.
Slowly, her hair, once like midnight,
Fades to a thin and frail white.
Slowly, her eyes, oceans of hope,
Turn to cold dark seas.
She will wait forever, but she doesn't live forever.
There's a pile of bones in the forest
Where nothing thrives.
There's a pile of bones in the forest
Where the sun never reaches.
It was once a young lady, waiting, waiting.
She was there to wait for her only friend.
Foolish and innocent, she stood until she died.
Now the only trees that stand there
Wait for another traveler.
They whisper in the wind,
Never trust, never believe.
Lies are all that make us.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry of Death
Poetry"You kept saying that you would never die, that you would live forever. But here you are, and here I am. Isn't it funny? I'm here to take your soul. Did I mention, I love my job? Oh right! I never told you. I'm the reaper who will reap your life." B...
