Poems Edit

Death's ValleyEdit

He whistles through the wind,

Calls through the branches,

He blows by the mountains,

And down the waterfalls.

“Death, Death” he cries to them,

“Is coming back” he calls,

He’s never heard by anyone,

Through their strong and humble walls.

No one knows, no one hears,

As Death’s servant passes by,

He flees as death approaches,

Uttering his silent cry.

A man fell dead,

And then another,

Followed by a widowed mother.

No one lived,

Not one slight breath,

For all of them had now met Death.

The town slept for a hundred years,

Before anybody cared,

Then a little band of travelers,

Walked right into its center square.

Nothing moved a single inch,

As the travelers walked by,

You see, Death was still a ’watching,

And to this day that’s where they lie.

My World

In my world the skies are grey,

The grass is green,

The rain comes down softly,

The water rolling down my face

In my world I always win,

I get what I want,

My subjects obey,

And do not question,

In my world everything is perfect,

No responsibility,

No work,

No effort

But this is not my world,

There are no clouds,

No grass,

No rain,

Just tears,

In this world I lose,

Others get what they want,

And I must obey them,

And I do not question,

In this world nothing is perfect,

There is only responsibility,


Too much effort

I choose this world,

Not my fantasy,

Not because it’s perfect,

Not because I love it,

But because this is the world I know.

The Sunset

The sky is ruled by Sun,

Every day he keeps the world there,

But every night he disappears.

The dark is ruled by Stars,

Every night he fills us with wonder,

But every day he disappears.

Then there are those tiny moments,

Sunset being one of them,

Where Sun looks at Stars and Stars looks at Sun,

Sun wishes Stars good luck as he goes down,

And Stars wishes Sun a very good night.