This is a poem that I did way back in eighth grade. I found it while I was going through all my old stuff. I think it was for Journalism. We were supposed to describe what we thought death might be like. I described it as something concrete instead of abstract. I know it sucks but it was my first clumsy steps in writing poetry so go easy on me.


Black Angel Wings

Death has come

Waiting by the door

His long black angel wings

Reaching down to the floor

The air becomes heavy

With fear and despair

A presence so dreadful

No man could bear

Screams of tortured souls

From the distant past

Rip through the night

In a high pitched blast

The stench of rotting flesh

Is released when Death speaks

He tells the man before him

Today is the end of his last week

The victim breaks into a sprint

Terrified, his mind undone

Death only smiles

A chase adds to the fun

Review (please) and tell me whatcha think!

- Rain