Assorted Poems

Oh Death

Her blood was as red
As the setting summer sun.
And oh, how she bled.
Her blood pooled on the pavement,
The sun reflecting off it merrily.
The thought of saving her
Was nothing but a lost cause.
It pooled further onto the crosswalk from her wounds,
Singing the sorrowful song of death.

He was near.
He was coming ever so soon.
And then he came,
And only I saw Him.
My fleeting attempts to save her were in vain.
He pointed a long, glistening boney white finger at her,
and looked at me with black eyes gleamed with pity.  
“Let…her leave,”
He managed to heave,
As if it hurt to take her away.
Letting go is never easy,
But I did what I was told,
Feeling queasy.
I let my selfish hold on her soul loosen,
And slumped when
She ceased to breathe.
And He picked her up with ease,
Looking pleased with his new soul.
As he turned away,
His cloak whispered soft words of nothingness,
Into the soft breeze,
And then he was gone.

It is hard to think someone so young,
Encountered Death, and survived.
Yet it pays off in the long run,
For when I see him next,
I can greet him with the long-waited,
“Hello,”
And be whisked away,
On my own soft words of nothingness,
To once again be with her.