I'm a God
Bring to me the last of your breath,
bring to me your personal final death.
Bring and I will breathe for all of you,
bring and I will take life from your view.
Bring.
Take from me my death filled hand,
take from me your hour glass sand.
Take and I will firmly grasp your breath,
take and I will complete your death.
Take.
Leave for me an offering with price,
leave for me something shiny, nice.
Leave and then grasp my poisoned hand,
leave your breath and take your sand.
Leave.
I'm a God.
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Author:
Maplespal (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 31st, 2025 07:35
- Comment from author about the poem: How to be rich, just claim to be a God and take the offerings.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments1
Clever, wonderfully worded, a great metaphor and sadly too true. A fave
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