Hold one last time my hands grips,
let me feel you on my dying lips,
whisper what is last on my breath,
"stay with me through my death".
A hope for more time to spawn,
and then I fade away and I'm, gone.
-
Author:
Maplespal (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 15th, 2026 04:29
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1

Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.