Grim Reaper
Death, I have experienced not.
But of it I have stolen, a clear glimpse
As it whisked passed me
So plain
In grim faces with
eyes deeply stained
Evident through streams
Flowing, by the nose, separated.
Ooh! I recognise death:
Dried tongue with bittersweet taste,
Deep into the night, the day, awoken
Taker of all, leaver of none,
I realise who death is,
A promise of roses in the middle of the desert,
A defiant character.
A timely guest
Dogged, deviant and
Sadistic.
leaves at the service of a peculiar excitement
I am it's host, expectant,
But it has, in oft, teased.
I have shared space with death,
A mindful personality.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
