HE EARNS HIS FEE
Distrust my soul, all faith is lost
my skull is crushed, a broken spine
and locked inside to burn and rot
my ribs are breaking muscles tearing
knotted hate once germinated
leaving now as death is creeping
in my eyes a milk white space
the reaper earns his fee.
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Author:
Michael Edwards (
Offline) - Published: October 5th, 2019 01:25
- Comment from author about the poem: This one is almost pure plagiarism. And apologies to all those plagiarised. I took a line over several months from different poems in the genre which I dislike the most and strung them all together - the only original line is the last. I still don't like this genre.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 58
Offline)
Comments5
Who you plaguing?! It'll be The Black Death for some who plagi-wotsit! Oohh lol.
Me Play Ging - who you?
The reaper only earns his fee if you let him.
Great artwork Michael.
Yup - you pay him in past deeds - or so some believe.
Oh the image this creates is quite disturbing. A fine contrast to the beautiful artwork which accompanies it. Impactful poem!
Find this kind of ultra deep a bit hard to take - I'm really a positive realist so it by-passes me.
Its beyond me tbh. I just can't get that low in spirit.
Nor can I - could only put this together thanks to pinching ideas from all and sundry. Just a bit of an experiment.
Your experiment worked, this is a truly non-inspiring work...except for that last line! 🙂
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