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The Eyes of Death

How cold are the eyes of death Pale orbs in the dark of night Hidden there with bated breath Forever to rob our sight No bias or emotion Without concern for our fates No hatred or devotion So remorseless he awaits With no heart or soul inside Even Kings and Queens have fallen There's nowhere to run or hide When the eyes of death comes callin'

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Paul Bell

Date: 6/3/2024 9:46:00 AM

It's nice to know whose lurking around the corner. Mind you, beats the taxman waiting for you.

Randy Freie
Date: 6/3/2024 2:25:00 PM

Thanks Paul, I agree, the taxman is spookier. Where the reaper is the end of life, the taxman is the end of your savings. You just have to keep living with that.

Andrea Dietrich

Date: 6/3/2024 8:32:00 AM

I like Joseph's comment. It's cool how you showed a different kind of metaphor for death. It's funny to me how your name also has a very interesting meaning that I used in my limerick on Randy Andie. I wonder if your parents were aware of that when they named you. We often emulate our names. That could be a good thing for you, Randy!

Randy Freie
Date: 6/3/2024 2:28:00 PM

Thanks Andrea, yes I read that poem and made that connection with my name. And yes, it's a very good thing.