Around her neck, the noose grows tight,
Tighter and tighter, as she fades with the night,
As her last few seconds pass,
Thousands of thoughts,
Race through her head,
Any moment,
And she'll be dead,
The noose grows tighter,
She's done now,
She was lost,
She was lonesome,
Finally now, she is at rest,
Her casket, not silver nor gold,
But wood and vine, into the ground she goes,
She's buried deep,
Finally happy, in eternal sleep.
YOU ARE READING
Poems For Death✔️
PoetryThey sound really pretty and there here for anyone who wants to read them. ~~~ My style of writing has improved so if you don't like these please check out my new book called A Poem For Death. ~~~
