He is waiting for you

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Sure thing in this life is Death,
moving unexpectedly
without a warning.

He doesn't give you a rest,
he runs after you,
he steals your life.

The world is evolving,
the days are getting shorter,
the time is ticking,
but Death is always there.

Fairness is his merit
but he has a great defect;
he doesn't wait for you
nor has compassion when it's your time.

Death can't be considered as an enemy,
nor he can be considered as a friend,
What is he then?
The answer is in the unknown.

Always present even when you don’t think about it,
the ink of Destiny has already been consumed,
you can’t choose,
this is our mortality.

Escaping from what is meant to be ...
impossible.

Believing in a greater power,
praying to be saved,
that could be the answer.
...................................

I should have probably put this in dramatic poetry




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Hey, Iamnotperfect. I like this poem a lot, it was very good. The only thing I didn't really like was:

Always present even when you don’t think about it,
the ink of Destiny has already been consumed,
you can’t choose,
this is our mortality.


I felt like this stanza had too many commas and should have more (separated) sentences.

Good job though, write on and PM me for anything. :)

~CF
Write on.




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Points 950
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This poem is a lot better than some others I've seen about death. Probably the best I've seen. It seems like you had a tragic experience like this happen to you like a lost love one. Keep writing!
Have a great day



Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto (I am a man, I don't consider anything human foreign to me)
— Terence