THANATOPHOBIA BY PROF CHRIS

THANATOPHOBIA

Feign pains to lap Death
Scientists awake on earth,
to disrepute stench necrosis,
awaiting men, a prize of nemesis.

Lord of peace split to all
Yet some chose to freely fall
To the snare of the wicked at night.
Now peace is nigh and out of sight
The Lord of guns and cutlass
Are on endless run, Alas!
Breeze and wind chasing them
For their deed, their Curtain depend

Thanatophobia,
A sworn enemy of euphoria.
How then shall smile be herald
When the soul is red?

PROF CHRIS

 

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