Sad Journeyman of Death

Sad Journeyman of Death Sad journeyman of life’s unending tests bides time in loathsome sojourn cross each dawn respecting naught but future’s numbered breaths a-weep upon the touch of bloodied thorn, Aroused to madness ‘neath the scent of war bathes in the fearful prayers as fleeing life soaks the rusting fields of nevermore too soon, too soon regaled by drum and fife. Slowly the agony of youth expires thrust now upon old roots as unleafed trees clutch the unspent lies of life’s desires to live, to age, another day to seize. Sad journeyman this lonely hypocrite Death wields his scythe yet doesn’t sharpen it. 10/29/2017 //sonnet// submitted to – DEATH – Poetry Contest