#WritcoPoemPrompt8
Every soul that passes the gate,
Has passed a test of fate,
Trudging along on tired feet,
Almost there, refusing to be beat
Reckless of being helded under arms
And now waking up from the lawns
i craved to work the magic
All around through the wind
And found magic doesn't know me anymore.
It only exists there to say death is beautiful.
© D