The Coming of Death
May 3, 2009 at 6:16 PM 4 comments
Hello, everyone! This is a poem I wrote. I’m not that much of a poet, but I decided poetry might make a good post occasionally. This one’s called The Coming of Death.
a small shadow
the air seems to move
you don’t turn around
don’t move
can’t move
death comes
death comes for everyone
a dark figure with a veil and cloak
a skeleton with a scythe
a shadow
a raven
or nothing visible at all
just a feeling
we know death is here
a mewling squeal of a baby
the slamming sound and resounding crash of a collision
a shot rings out
or maybe several shots
the small slunk of a knife in flesh
the hacking horrific gasping of choking
the sound of the last tiny breath of a sleeping man in bed
death comes for everyone
no one knows
what happens
in death
after death
all we know
is that there is death
death
all we can count on
death
comes for everyone
Inevitable.
Entry filed under: By The Bibliophile, Poetry. Tags: angsty, By The Bibliophile, morbid, Poetry.
1.
Sarah Buttenwieser | May 4, 2009 at 10:37 PM
great poem!
2.
ilana | May 4, 2009 at 11:16 PM
Eze,
This poem was on the staircase one night when I came home late at night. I thought it was your dad’s idea of a joke to leave it for me to totally creep me out….
love the blog, keep it up!
xo
ilana
3.
bookwormandlurline | May 5, 2009 at 6:53 AM
ilana- The poem was on the staircase late at night…. (Dun Dun DUN!) No, it was actually there because I got Kathryn to print it. Still, I’m glad it creeped you out!
4.
Aaron | June 4, 2009 at 12:10 AM
My favorite parts of this are the lines that are physically descriptive, or have strong sounds in them–
small slunk flesh
hacking horrific choking
And I love where this poem begins– ‘a small shadow’
Something about death being small resonates with me.