Death Comes To An Old Man
An old man, worn and wearied by the toils of life,
stood alone in a darkened hallway,
each wall hung with brightly lit paintings.
He walked by the Mona Lisa, and as he passed
he knew the reason for her smile.
He paused before Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt,
and the air seemed to be sweetly scented with the heavy perfume of roses, which pulled at his soul with soft, wraithlike arms.
He stopped.
The world seemed to shrink away from him,
dissolving into nothingness.
Before him was Van Gogh's "Starry Night"
Its yellow paint looked wet, vivid.
The blue rippled as the colours swirled
together, hypnotizing; the old man transfixed
by their mesmerizing beauty
as he was swept up into their whirling splendor,
leaving the blue-shadowed hallway silent and empty,
as the pale stars wavered on in cold brilliance
Copyright © Meggan Rogalski | Year Posted 2005
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