Death

[Son_of_Herb]

Yeah, sure wish this was the rowdy room, there is something rotten about some people's poetry, in fact, it is so horrible, it make want to rape some one.

Death Be Not Proud

by John Donne
(1572-1631)
DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

[somedude]

I'm waiting for you to sign up as Herbie the Rape Bug! LOL

[Son_of_Herb]

Originally Posted by somedude

I'm waiting for you to sign up as Herbie the Rape Bug! LOL

Well, could sign on as son of Grm, but you already got that title.

I prefer Chef Hans hot sauce.

[ego]

Originally Posted by gal4

I suppose my worse fear of dying would be falling from a building.

The taller it is, the more time u have to realize u r deat meat!