DeathA Poem by Melissa KeseadWhat stranger walks upon the fragil pathways of my life? It is Death with his dark hooded face and scythe
He come to me on a breath of life since gone Take my hand says he, the journey is not long
On the air memory after memory seems to bloom Scents of life envelope my senses, a rare perfume
We drift away my hand and Death's, forever entwined To heaven's gates we fly, always to enjoy eternity divine
© 2009 Melissa Kesead |
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Melissa KeseadKey West, FLAboutI am a wife and mother of two young children who give me ideas for books constantly. I live in Key West, Florida and when I'm not writing I enjoy fishing, lobstering and being on the water whenever p.. more..Writing
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