Death

• Eleanor Crawford, Grade 6
• Poetry
• 2018

Death
Death is a forever moving grey blanket,
Of endless sleep and blink less eyes.
Tacking helpless people in it`s arms,
Leaving no trace of its presence.
Leaving no chance to plea,
Calling, sinners, preachers all come to me.
Death holds the key to all immunity,
The one that never shows.
The one which fills us with hope,
And fills us with its Hearty blows.
Many fear of it as it’s path is unknown,
From death you cannot hide.
You can’t escape the fire inside as this black bellied beast,
Burns bright through the night.
As it never begins to cease,
The grey blanket of eternity.