Death and Its Children | Teen Ink

Death and Its Children

June 15, 2014
By DragonairDitto SILVER, West Deptford, New Jersey
DragonairDitto SILVER, West Deptford, New Jersey
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments

You are






Decisive,








Angry,
Rude,



And








Dead.
You are Death.
Sickly sweet,
Somehow charming,
Controlling the lives of others
With
The
Words
That
Escape




Your
Mouth.
Most love you,
Cherish your gift of taking the
Pain
Away,
But I can see through you;
The lavishing lies you tell
About dying
Do not
Fool
Me.
You`re going to have to
Try
A
Bit
Harder
To
Get
Me
To
Give
In
To
Your
Senseless
Stupidity.
You can talk about me as much as you want,
For I will never roll over
And
Die.
The comments you say
Only make me
Angrier,
And
Angrier,
And
Angrier,
And
Angrier
Until eventually
I`ll kill you, Death;
I`ll kill you.
You may go by a different name,
But
I `m
Not
Stupid
Enough
To believe
Your
Two faced
Personality.
I thought I could trust you
To relieve the pain of living.
It`s only a trick.
A trick to get me to






surrender.
You swim laps
In a pool
Of the people
You took,
The people
You lied to,
The people who thought
You actually cared,
And
The people
You killed.
All you care about is becoming
s t r o n g e r,
Being able to swim more laps
In
Your
Bloody
Pool.
Each time you swim,
You gain more
And more
Speed.
Your lap times increase.
Eventually,
You get so fast,
The blood splashes over the sides onto the concrete,
And
You
Need
More
Blood.
Your name might not be Death,
But I can see through your fake exterior.
You are Death,
Or at least one of its children.
The people you coax
Regret giving into the white light upon dying.
Who are you impressing?
Nobody cares about the souls you stole.
I only care about
The
Day
You`ll
Be
Defeated.
They say you can`t cheat Death.
Those are only myths.
I can cheat you.
I`ll even kill you.
Think about that.
Killing Death?
Isn`t that ironic.
You`ll be knocked on your butt
Without any more
Lies,
Comebacks,
Excuses,
Innocence,
Or
Sugar coated words that
Twist
The


Minds of
Your
Poor
Victims.
Try not to talk about me next time.
Try not to lie to me next time.
Try not to involve my family next time.
Then maybe
Just
Maybe
You`ll add me to your bloodbath of
D e a d
friends.
For
Now,
I`ll always be ahead of you,
Knowing when


You`ll strike,
Knowing where



You`ll strike,
Knowing Who





You`ll strike,
Knowing Why




You`ll strike,
And
Knowing how


You`ll strike.
Don`t try to talk about me behind my back again,
My good “friend.”
I
w a r n you, Death.
I`ll kill you even before you get to
See the white lights of
Heaven.
God doesn`t except
People


Like


You.



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