Death of the Poet
How can one be betrayed by death
Be cheated out of living
Hate filled heart, blood shot eyes
Cold-bloodily will be of it
Heart empty beats uneven
Let I revenge all before death
With every breath vengeful fire
Let I take my life for you
Murder the old lady shall scream
Murder from the top of her lungs
The poets dead! - triumphal wreath
I am gone now to another planet
Please if not all hold onto my words
These are but just simple genius
Manifold a great poet of the time
I cut my wrist so I can write in blood
Paint a portrait of vivid images
Pull out my vain and hung it up
What a bloody mess I have caused
Shocked as their eyes wonders
They have seen the silent murder
They have slain the poet.
poem by Obinna Nwerem
Added by Poetry Lover
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