Of Sorrows and Ceaselessness

Just a thought I had... thought I'd put it in a poem

I so pity Death

 

For never has there existed

Such a lonely occupation,

Nor such a thankless one.

 

You poor blameless soul,

Who hast cursed thee

To bear such tremendous and sorrowful

Responsibility?

 

What it must be like

To be so endlessly feared - hated,

To suffer such guilt

Which you don’t deserve.

 

You wish you would endure

The same fate

As that of your charges,

But your wretched body

Works on relentlessly

To end the lives of men

Who foolishly wish

They could keep on living.

 

Oh, Death

Such a troubled life

You must lead.

Always ceasing

Never ceasing

Author's Note

As always, any and all constructive criticism is welcome.