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Death where is your license?
Who grants you that permission?
Nature, No.
But who?

Those dude’s I Know,
Shadow’s of memory,
Beneath your glutton end,
I sobbed with the moon and the sun,
I know one day you’ll burn.

Mama close the damp,
In your heart.
This festival of tears you must bind,
and let justice stretch her hands.

Death you are guilty,
like grains of sands their soul arises,
pointing fingers on you.
Even though plead guilty,
Who will be your lawyer?

Execute him, execute.
Those broken life clamours,
Just waiting for the trumpet’s approval.
Death you are doomed.

I pity for you,
Seeing your shivering legs and hands.
The duel is Teeth for tat,
Your executioner I will be,
when that trumpet finally speaks,
A ransom to those dude’s,
for their soul to have a sleep
death is dead.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 


Death is indeed guilty.
I hope to see death dead one day. Thanks for sharing, Chiori.


always remember to make a critique of other poems
using the hoe is not madness for nothing

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