Death at the Door

Death at the Door

A Poem by OctoberDawn
"

Musings on the frailty and beauty of life

"

 The sound of the knocking at the door,

 makes no distinctions between rich and poor.

The ominous miasma pervading the air,

possesses no compassion, no threshold of care.

These moral lines in which we believe,

fall blind on the eyes of the one who bereaves.

Who's icy, cold fingers gather the souls,

then ferry the restless to the eternal shores.

 

     The engraver of epitaphs and keeper of tolls,

tarries not long, in the task he beholds.

He stays not his hand from the ones who still cling,

to the passions they've chased, and the failures that sting.

How then can we wait, for the things we desire?

this inertia we trust leads our dreams to the fire.

So when his fist meets our door, and introduces sound to the ear,

will you smile with joy, or turn and run in blind fear?

© 2012 OctoberDawn


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Featured Review

Wow this was really good. The beginning really captured the reader and kept them interested! The rhyme makes this poem spooky and mysterious. I really enjoyed the lines
"The sound of the knocking at the door,
makes no distinctions between rich and poor"
that made the poem very nice.
-Courage

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

So I've been creeping on pretty much all of your writing and this is by far my favorite. It's perfect. Seriously. There's absolutely nothing wrong with it (except for the random indentation, but that doesn't count).

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

A unique outlook on death indeed, great work.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Wow this was really good. The beginning really captured the reader and kept them interested! The rhyme makes this poem spooky and mysterious. I really enjoyed the lines
"The sound of the knocking at the door,
makes no distinctions between rich and poor"
that made the poem very nice.
-Courage

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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209 Views
3 Reviews
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Added on June 16, 2012
Last Updated on June 16, 2012
Tags: Death, Life, Frailty, Fear, Door

Author

OctoberDawn
OctoberDawn

CO



About
My name is Criss Hill, I'm 20 and I'm from Colorado. I don't so much consciously write poetry as my heart takes control of my pen and urges me to capture a pale fragment of the beauty and heartbreak o.. more..

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