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6 July 2008

In the Quatrains of Death


Death is here and Death is with me,
Dark angel I alone can see
She surrounds, inside, below,
She is Death and I shall go.

Death has her hand upon my skin,
On all I am in my own sin.
This I know and this I feel,
Death my lady - you are real.

First, my desires pass to her hand,
My dreams, my tears, just grains of sand,
They are dead, my time is due
So alone I perish too.

The things I love and hold so dear
Will die with me and pass from fear
Life is harsh all things must rot
Love is death, or is it not?

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

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