DeathA Poem by Reaper BirdShuttered tomb, the door of sleep For once in passage, ever gone Yet ever will the waking weep The cards remain, for they are drawn Fate shall drag them past the veil Though they shall rule ‘til days of old, And all words shall prevail, The dead, still, do not bleed gold. © 2017 Reaper Bird |
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Added on August 13, 2017 Last Updated on August 13, 2017 Author
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