Death
Come O thou reliever from painful pains
And strike pestilent all vibrating things
Let not a life live;
No joy, no mirth, no laughter
No cheerful face there be seen.
O darkness descend and take the world in thy lap
O winds stop in thy lively course
O silence fall and let not any voice be heard
O save me from this bemoaning world.
poem by Om Chawla
Added by Poetry Lover
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