By: Ardis E. Parshall - June 28, 2012 An Episode of Euthanasia By Joseph Longking Townsend When Death caressed me with her lingering arms,And with cool palms stroked oft my beaded brow,And flashed dark eyes into my nervous sight,I smiled and welcomed her. Was she not very kind?Did she not ease the pain that wracked my limbs,And bid me swoon away in misty dreamsWhere all things beautiful entranced my eyes,And tunes of unborn melodies...
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