death and his girl

decided to do a bit of emo poetry for fun

death was not a skeleton,

nor was he a man

he was just death,

ageless, like the sky

 

she was not undead,

yet not a woman.

she was merely timeless,

as the earth

 

death roamed the earth,

like a teenage, lovesick boy,

looking for what he never had.

to gain what he never gained

 

the girl was white,

like the wolf howled moon,

and her voice

was that of the nightingale

 

death's bones were bleached pale white,

the white of the pallor,

of one freshly dead.

and the wind whistled its melody through his bones

 

and like a fiddle to a string,

death's whistling

met the fresh moonsong.

similar, yet different.

 

and as the girl did sing,

and as death did watch,

little boy death

found his little girl moon.

Reviews

[MiidniightSoul]

A really deep and dark poem. Very beautifully written, and very sadn. The last stanza is very touching, very well written. I liked it the most. Wonderful, thanks for sharing.