Poem 8

Oh, Death!

I summoned Death and gave him my soul,
Just so he could live the curse of life.

In kindess he’s rich, in wisdom deprived,
The first thing he did was to love.
Oh, Death, how naive, love is a curse of life!

“No, love is a gift!” He screamed,
Wait till he sees where the bitter truth lies.

I waited til his heart was as ruined as mine,
Now he’s sore in pain and hopelessness.

I felt nothing when he yowl because,
I summoned Death and gave him my soul.

“No, love is a gift!” He screamed,
“Love and pain define a meaningful life!”
“‘… sources of wisdom that I was deprived!”

I gave Death my soul to live the curse of life,
Yet still I’m the one who suffered.

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