poems

Comfort in black

"No." she said to death as it chased behind,

"You won't get me now." as she jumped the bridge,

Humored, death exclaimed "That's what the rest say too,"

As it jumped after her. The waves crashing, harsh wind,

Screams, shrieks, grunts, and roars,

And heavy showers, and some driving force,

Her voice resonant but she's nowhere to be seen.

Death is threatened, for what it hears isn't fear to go,

Nor the desire to stay,

But its malice, and utter contempt, bleeding in sea.

"For me?" death marvels, "what did I ever do?"

Cracking thunder and a deafening boom,

Then a hand of bones, caging its leg.

Death sees a pair of eyes, intense under water,

Unmoving, stoic, bare of forgiveness.

But the furrow in the brow, the flare in the nose,

It all deafened out for that glint in the eyes.

The small sparkle, directed at death,

Conveyed too much emotions, that death understood.

It was betrayal she felt. So many times,

She'd shout to death to come take her home,

She'd plead, she'd beg, she'd yell in defeat,

Death heard her always, it did, along with Purpose and Time,

But it had to wait, the etched date was solemn, divine.

"I'm here now," death whispered, "I'm sorry I'm late.",

With a hand on her head, a pat on the shoulder,

Death eased her glare, and she let herself breathe,

The storms soothed, the wind turned cold,

Death took her in its arms,

"Home is waiting, let's go."