Death
I was the word before life gave promise to shoulder the nurturing need of serpants and men, before breezes streamed aromatic air from distant callings that tended senses of gratitude, purpose and mysticism.
I was afterthought before thinking, before passion painted gullies with the heavy of falling rain that drew life back to mighty oaks reaching high for God’s exaltation.
Many have shunned me away into broken bits like hope receded when plagues cauterize minds closed to believe that all things, in time, neither grieve nor dissipate.
I was the withering of sight and touch as dark curvature on the straight and narrow of their savior’s misgiving when they believed angels could lift them beyond life’s true humanity.
They have called me by many names, those whose tribunal sat upon pages in books of man and his dungeon-like manifestos.
I am a recurring blood-right written and rewritten as Alpha and Omega, born and reborn like stardust to be cast then exhumed far and wide that fate’s fingers might retract and expand like their prophecies have spilled as black tar upon the condemned.
Wishing has never eluded a clutch of my demand, nor plea or calling upon sacred alters, for even their Christ and tongues run dry in the mouth of my inevitability, for I am what is, what was and what shall always be for all time.
I am Death.
About this poem
This is a poetic outtake on death.
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Written on December 28, 2022
Submitted by Symmetry58 on December 28, 2022
Modified by Symmetry58
- 1:13 min read
- 128 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | X X X X X X X X |
---|---|
Characters | 1,355 |
Words | 244 |
Stanzas | 8 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1 |
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"Death" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2023. Web. 26 Mar. 2023. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/147802/death>.
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