Poetry
-~-
The Wrath of Death
I feel a cold wind at my feet,
Death do I greet
Death will I meet
His touch so sweet.
Death shall reap thine spirit tonight,
Granting me flight
From the grim sight
Sparing my night.
Deaths relentless anger shall bloom,
From aught he looms,
Bringing the gloom,
Bringing my doom.
-~-
-~-
The Wrath of Death
I feel a cold wind at my feet,
Death do I greet
Death will I meet
His touch so sweet.
Death shall reap thine spirit tonight,
Granting me flight
From the grim sight
Sparing my night.
Deaths relentless anger shall bloom,
From aught he looms,
Bringing the gloom,
Bringing my doom.
-~-
This all shall be updated. Do you like?
And I know that I suck at drawing hands. sweatdrop
