Get Your Premium Membership

In The Center Of His Eye

There we lay so close to the center of deaths eye.
Not many places our soul can hide,
The reaper has wings that allow him to soar high.
To places our breath would simply die.
But if you asked me to describe him,
I would simply sell you thin.
For I have not seen this mysterious gentleman in disguise.

He waits for you to close your eyes for the last time,
To take you to a place so sublime.
So tell him “ Do me in O sweet demise”.
Cause I do not wish to fall from your grace,
Always looking through the faces,
Waiting to look into his pale horses eye.
Just before he drags me off into the sky!

So if you come a cross this immortal spy,
Will you tell him please just before you die?
Say these words and do not lie,
“There is another who waits for this ride,
if you can take him, 
I will wait to die”.

By Desi E.Sherman

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Post Comments
Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.