Day of the dead
Learn more about other poetry terms
I know no warmth from days past
It was the first to go
Then next was my flesh and blood until all
That's left is teeth and bone
In this sweet earth
I sing in honor of death, the none believe in making dreams awaken, the years will wrinkle as you’ve done. I sing in honor of death - the none begin and end will meet as one. It’s blinding white with eyes so blacken I sing in honor of death!
