deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Run with Death
I turn to see the figure, dark and hooded, voice ever so raspy.
My feet seem to move before my mind does.
I walk faster and faster as I hear the flapping of the cloak behind me.
It isn't long before I am in a slow jog but I cannot escape the sound of that dreadful cloak.
I feel the chill of the air as the figure closes in ever so quickly.
I break into a run but it is all in vain.
I hear the voice, like nails on a chalkboard, as it whispers my name right into my ear.
I try to sprint away but my legs are giving up, my body is succumbing to the darkness.
I feel the cold hand reaching for me.
I know it is too late but I continue to run, to where I wouldn't know.
I feel the grip on my shoulder and I stop dead in my tracks.
Finally death has caught up to me and there is no longer anywhere for me to run.
The woman in the chair weeps uncontrollably upon the shoulder of her husband as the doctors come in to cover the cold body of her once bright and cheerful son.
It is too late, he is gone, taken his own life.
She had hopes that the doctors could save him but there wasn't enough time.
Death walks me toward the abyss with a smile on his face.
I turn to him and ask just one question; "What took you so long?"
My feet seem to move before my mind does.
I walk faster and faster as I hear the flapping of the cloak behind me.
It isn't long before I am in a slow jog but I cannot escape the sound of that dreadful cloak.
I feel the chill of the air as the figure closes in ever so quickly.
I break into a run but it is all in vain.
I hear the voice, like nails on a chalkboard, as it whispers my name right into my ear.
I try to sprint away but my legs are giving up, my body is succumbing to the darkness.
I feel the cold hand reaching for me.
I know it is too late but I continue to run, to where I wouldn't know.
I feel the grip on my shoulder and I stop dead in my tracks.
Finally death has caught up to me and there is no longer anywhere for me to run.
The woman in the chair weeps uncontrollably upon the shoulder of her husband as the doctors come in to cover the cold body of her once bright and cheerful son.
It is too late, he is gone, taken his own life.
She had hopes that the doctors could save him but there wasn't enough time.
Death walks me toward the abyss with a smile on his face.
I turn to him and ask just one question; "What took you so long?"
Published 7th Dec 2012
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9th Dec 2012 00:23am
I don't claim to have experienced death first hand so from my perspective you make a wonderful commentary about the unknown while incorporating the very human and real fears.
This also made me think of the many people who gave the world so much while not fearing death but rather embracing living.
This is going on my list!
This also made me think of the many people who gave the world so much while not fearing death but rather embracing living.
This is going on my list!