Mors Poems - Poems about Mors

...Say, if you had the world in your hands? Would you crush it or hold near to the idea that humanity should continue? There's bad people and monsters among men. Where do you draw a line in the morality......

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...Entering the dark side of a moonbeam is always very risky since the cold and howling bitterness of the night escapes, as a moaning, devilish agony of selfishness devours the good. As the human h......

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...Death Conquers All There were white roses tied with tiny red ribbons all over the place nothing imposes; they’re everywhere full of grace…. far and wide; here and there! I ca......

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...Entering the dark side of a moonbeam is always very risky since the cold and howling bitterness of the night escapes, as a moaning, devilish agony of selfishness devours the good. As the human h......

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...Entering the Dark Side of a Moonbeam Entering the dark side of a moonbeam is always very risky since the cold and howling bitterness of the night escapes, as a moaning, devilish agony of selfis......

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...Entering the Dark Side of a Moonbeam Entering the dark side of a moonbeam is always very risky since the cold and howling bitterness of the night escapes, as a moaning, devilish agony of selfis......

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...it. And we repeat it back by sound, motion, and symbols. Some words we cannot really translate, like the words in the greeting "Hummel, Hummel; Mors, Mors." The people of Hamburg, Germany might be able to explain it, but it would be difficult. In short, "mors" generally means in English "kiss my butt." But what if it was more profound, take philosophy and theology? Not many in the "west" understand Hinduism. There are words like "zen" and the te......

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..."Pallida mors aequo pulsat pede Pauperum tabernas regumque turris" Death comes in many forms And never counts the cost. A brutal suicide bewilders, Desolate are the young mother's children. ......

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...A New Brother Dear brother, I do not hate you! I do not know you to hate you. I may hate that which you represent, which has brought us to this present But the truth i......

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...Who is seeing off whom, In home,hospital or Hell, Visiting you in your sick room, Knowing you won't get well? In that space 'twixt life and death You linger,time running out of sand, All word......

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...Ouivre, ouivre, my Ovus Star, a bit premature immortal, for there we are. Again, and again, we do sojourn. I am yes... so terribly in love, but a bit ironic. Our path as one harmonio......

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