Spilling Off the Page

Feelings spill across the page

Splatter the corners

Seep off white tree skin to drip below

Into a cluttered heap

Liquid pain

Searing hot to the touch 

Branding its word into my heart

"Death," it whispers

Murmured words become loud

If repeated enough 

Clambering around in my head

Like popping popcorn

"DEATH!" it screams

"Is coming!"

With its cold talons

Ready to snatch and snare

Breath ripened by age away 

A life worth living

Full and glorious

As she could have made it

She will die, yes

And leave behind flesh and bone

That once tied her to an Earthly existence

Once death has stopped its mumblings

There will be peace in the hearts

Of those it touched

And she will spread her wings

And fly free

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

A lot of grim death imagery in this one. Understandable, for it seems to threaten all we have known and loved. On the other hand, it may be nothing more than a revolving door.