Dances with death.

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  • Death
  • ,
  • Life

    Poem Commentary

    I wrote this because i was very bored, Its on the way i kinda think of life it was the best way i think of to change life to something alot of people can relate to.

    Dances with death.

     

    Thin fingers reaching out for me.

    As i danced out of deaths grip.

    Blood running cold as a frosty winter night.

    Darkness leaves blew off the tree.

    Death raged on past me.

    For again i danced from its grip.

    Sorry played in my mind.

    Again i rejoined the dance.

    What is knowen as the,

    Fight for life.

    For i had no choice but to rejoin.

    As the dancers failed.

    We started the dance,

    Before we where born.

    For those who,

    Feared losing this dance lost faster.

    Dancing out of the way of the frosty hands of death.

    For lives fail as they miss step.

    Always dancing till the end.

    Always with the beat.

    Chose to dance or die.

    The music never stopping.

    For the dance for life is fast.

    For i have miss stepped.

    Yet got to rejoin the dance.

    Yet such dancers never get the second chances.

    Deaths fingers always striking.

    Chose to dance or die.

    Many choices,

    The beat slows at one point.

    When?
    For i can not say.

    For You control your own dance to a point.

    Choices in your dance with death play in this.

    Life you never slow your dance.

    It never stops till death wins.

    For it shall claim all the dancers.

    Chose to dance or die.

    Many choices can hurt your dance.

    Blood pumps slower at one point,

    The poin when the music slows,

    what is when you know death shall strike.

    Life is okay dead can be a gift.

    Yet the dances still goes on,

    Dance or die.

     

     

     

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    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

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