Enigma (A Contemplative Collection of Poems)

A conversation with Death

Into the orchard of demise she tread

In her hand, a child held on with dread.

Past the gates that wilt with fear

Come to cheat me, now have you dear?

With no less than a mind between them now

The child laments, please kill the bloody cow.

He sits and jeers, wish for my departure?

He laughs, and you think you’re a martyr.

Pledge your dire heart to me

For you cannot see the plan to be

Dirge for the omen, for your survival

Because it’s time you realised,

I am not your rival.

She sighs, grant me sleep and take me under.

Maintain your repute through despoil and plunder.