Want to see more poems, comment, or even publish your own? Become a member.
William Troup

Death Is Sick

Published on Tue, 27th Jan 2026 at 00:19

by William Troup

Death is sick; a silhouette sprig of life begets a shield; what more of thee? Drunk on blood, their sins forgiven? ghosts shalt not see the trees. Empty thrones forget the truce; therein lies the innocence of youth. Death is sick; what hand is left to play?

0 Likes
274 Views
0 Saved

More by William Troup

Upon the Wildest Landscapes
25th Mar 2026 at 23:53

The Sharpest Knife
24th Mar 2026 at 23:35

I Am Blue
17th Mar 2026 at 00:02

Jubilant Keepers
14th Mar 2026 at 23:59

Leverage Loses Love
10th Mar 2026 at 23:49

That Part of Me Still Loves You
26th Feb 2026 at 00:06

Existence Is Alone
25th Feb 2026 at 00:45

Forgotten Goodbyes
31st Jan 2025 at 22:39

Am I Still Human?
31st Jan 2025 at 22:31

Hello Water
31st Jan 2025 at 22:22

Recent News

Sign Up Issues!
28th Mar 2026 at 22:06

Apologies!
21st Jul 2025 at 12:03

New Fixes and Performance Improvements
6th Jun 2025 at 20:03

Recent Types

Ode

Free Verse