My Life In Your Death

My Life In Your Death

A Poem by Mahigan

3 A.M. poetry can be both wonderful and strange. Moods sway and dance in time to your need to sleep and ideas no normally found find their way to you.

Ah, the beautiful dance of life and death
Teetering forever on the brink as balance is lost
Gained through the prowess of one hand or another
This time it is mine that sways the pendulum
Back and forth, back and forth I wait and I watch
As the blade swings slowly and inexorably downward
The sweat stands out in a fine sheen on your face
Your voice is hoarse from screaming; begging me for mercy
For compassion, for my unholy and ungodly death
But alas all that you ask for I am lacking in
I could not yield even if I wished; the wheels have been set in motion
And who am I to stop them now? Who am I to hinder what fate has wrought?
To see your eyes widen as the first red line appears is a sight
No eyes have ever opened as wide as your own
I fear your skull should lose them were you to turn your head
Most thankfully you are restrained in a most inescapable way
So such a worry is silly and unfounded
Every passing second is a moment to be savored
First flecks, then drops, then streams of blood gore fill the air
And see the beauty your dying life brings?
The way it splashes upon the ground would fill Pollock with envy
Finally your breathing turns shallow and rapid
Music filling the air in this happy void
I lean close to catch your death rattle and you do not disappoint 
Even now you shall not escape me, for I have come prepared
To keep you as a cherished memory; so I bottle your last breath
A fitting tribute for your life and death 

© 2011 Mahigan

Author's Note

Please, do not think me disturbed. 3 A.M. poetry is always, at best, random; at worst it is meaningless.

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The only thing meaningless is nothing or Pollock's present envy
Those able to regret are still alive and hope springs forth eternal.

Posted 12 Years Ago

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1 Review
Added on July 14, 2011
Last Updated on July 14, 2011



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