Death is Cruel there is no doubt
No one knows their last day, present and future only god
Death is Cruel there is no doubt
Death is cruel, it takes too fast,
Steals their will, leaves the past.
No warning given, no kind goodbyes,
Just empty spaces, hollow skies.
Laughter fades, a voice goes still,
A touch is lost against all will.
No bargain made, no price to pay,
It comes, it takes, then walks away.
And here I stand, with hands so bare,
Grasping ghosts that aren’t there.
Death is cruel, no softer sound—
It does not wait, nor turn around.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (2)
Definitely a poem to think about for death is necessary and those who die mostly to a greater reward for they learned what they needed to learn. I read this poem from a different standpoint. Good job.
Oof, this one hits hard! Death doesn’t play fair, and your words make sure we feel that. No mercy, no second chances—just loss. That last line? Cold as ice. P.S. Death took the round, but your poem wins the fight.