Poem #15; Mortal

Death.
Five letters of fear.
So silent is his arrival,
Crawling across cursed corridors,
Always accompanied by tear.
Rivers flow when it’s your beloved.
A colour of mourning black to few,
To a few it’s white.
It strikes so sudden, out of sight.
But when it becomes four,
So numb you get,
Because by then,
You are just dead.

©Whiskey&Lemon

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