We circle death
Like we circle the sun
Free falling
Until we…
Hear that?
Silence.
It’s the sound of death.
The music of non-existence.
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Oh God, been ages, last wrote a poem in 2013, since I wrote a poem. Hope that was enjoyable or it makes you think.
Thanks for reading
“Whirling dust in morning air
Two warriors in the ring
With the strength of two great bears
They make their weapons sing
Sparks fly high when steel meets steel
And no one can believe
That these two men are best friends
Not enemies” – Àmon Amarth ‘The Way of Vikings’