Vita et Mors

Short poem

For I had done, what you shan't,
Strafed through the pass, fate in hand,
Call myself the master of my soul,
But my carcass may yet be covered in coal

They, my dearest, no longer no longer adore,
For I need to come to the fore,
For the day I see the dawn,
Will be the day, I'll be gone.

Author's Note

I'm just, 14 please don't be harsh.

Reviews

[hardeep sabharwal]

you are just fourteen!!
a nice write to read,, wish u the best