Death
In the end of time i managed to escape what i thought was death but in turn she was liberating freeing in a way i could see her flowing black hair and floral dress she was kind and beautiful she tasted like honey and smelled like rasberries giving freedom to eveyone she could. That is who my death wa and like the fool i was i managed to what i thought was an escape but turned out she was the escape
This poem is about:
Me