Writing Prompt
Writings
Writings
POEM STARTER
Submitted by marlovely
Life in Your Hands
Write a poem or short story about if you were death and had to choose each day who must die.
Writings
Humans fear the dark, but what happens for those who seek it…?
They find me
Yes, some people say I’m a cruel master-
But master is not a word I like, I am merely a Shepard.
Death
I am a Shepard called death
But I am also called love, I am a beautiful thing
I am cruel cold people laid bare,
the child that still loves showing through fresh innocence
I am the long suffering lamb
Finally laid to res...
You can’t run from me
Oh my love
You can’t run away from death
I am the shadows that you convince yourself you don’t see
I’m the whistle in the wind
I’m the cold gust you get in a closed room
I am death
And I follow you everywhere
Every minute
Of
Every
Day
No matter where you turn
I’m there
Next to you
Waiting
Waiting for you to mess up
Waiting for an incident where I can finally...
I am the undertaker. The grim reaper. The god Thatanos. Many people have called me many things throughout the course of history. But to put it simply, I am Death. The keeper of fallen souls and escort of pale bodies.
————
It’s not easy being me. Every day I chose who is next. Who I will take into my cold hands and sever their last tethers to life. I have many assistants, but sometimes the souls ...
Cradling such fragility,
Lost in agony.
Perched on my shoulder,
You are the beholder.
Longing for such clarity,
Found in lucidity.
Pecking my chest,
So in time I would confess.
Losing in the fallacy,
Wading to your fantasy.
Breaking my heart,
So now this is my chart.
Giving in to your whimsy,
In the deepest sea.
You are taken now,
This was heaven’s vow.
/
Love You R
…
🖤...
Life in your hands
My life was in your hands, Ma
You gave it away
Gave away me, my life
In your hands
Now, do you know who I am?
Born Asian, raised American
Geez, Ma.
I sound like a pack of meat.
Is that all you think of me?
I don’t know who I am.
You took away that “family legacy” part of finding identity.
I have identity crises now.
Good job, Ma.
Still love you though
Still don’t kno...
I am the end of every beginning. The light at the end of every tunnel is me.
Or perhaps darkness is more of a fitting image. But then again, that would mean the light never existed in the first place.
Death… that‘s what mortals call me.
No matter how much people fear and hate me, and however they once started, wherever they came from, whatever ranks or fortune they might possess;
Their storie...
I am Grim Reaper, the one responsible for taking lives
The one responsible for keeping things in balance, the way things are
The one responsible for many deaths of many people like kids, parents, presidents, and wives
The one responsible for deaths here or there or in some car
When I kill, I am careless and constant
I don’t care if you are young, old, kind, mean, rich, or suffering
If you are goi...
Too much power do these brainless hands yield,
Death is here but you still haven’t found your shield.
I will take you young or old,
I’m sorry if the thought of it has not got you sold.
My hands are so brainless yet they still must think,
Who will survive and who will sink.
All this power you invested in me,
To make someone’s life choices an eternity.
They live in heaven or hell,
Cos of my life and...
Where am I?
Already dead.
What can I do?
Here’s the power, take it.
How do I use?
Choose each day who must die.
God from Hell,
Each one of us has been set,
Whenever he wants,
We will die…
I can decide the target,
Those I love,
Those I hate,
Those I don’t know,
Everyone of them is in my hand.
I ask them why?
Wanted to die.
For many reasons,
I cried and laughed....
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