Tim B Poet Free verse

Danse Macabre

As we walked through the valley of the shadow of it
Silent neighbors whose stolen doves
Fly free
Free in the night to unfurl wings of peace
In times of war 
So unjust is the death of the nightman
Keeper of earthly tombs in Ancient Greece
The pinnacle of pain erupts in the east
Far from the dove's flight, a frightening thing
Occurs unseen moving in dark shadowed cloaks
Cloaks of daggers meant for eyes of prophets
Weakness of man allows this sting
Devil unfurls wings of war and this... this
Is his Danse Macabre
Where was the nightman on his watch?
Dancing.

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Cherl Dunn January 6, 2014 at 1:32 AM Another wonderful old world flavor of a write here and i enjoyed your style of work it is very refreshing to read something that takes you back to earily time. it reminds me of back during washintons time in earily american times. thank you for sharing your work with me this evening. cheri

Debbie Guzzi January 5, 2014 at 6:20 PM Their are as many kinds of dances as there are lives. Light & Love

Russell Sivey January 5, 2014 at 5:34 PM This is another tremendous write my friend! You have amazed me by the splendor of this incredible poem! I really enjoyed reading this truthful poem this evening! What an outstanding piece, Great Work!!

Sara Kendrick January 5, 2014 at 4:02 PM The night watch man so failed at his job..Whoa..I think that is what is happening today our night watch men have lost sight of the importance of their job..Enjoyed reaing your great work..Thanks for the visit to my page..Your review of my work is always encouraging..Sara

Anne-Lise Andresen January 5, 2014 at 2:16 PM - A well written poem, Tim - What happens in the shadows .... who knows.... - oxox // Anne-Lise :)