Specter of Death
The specter of death
floats round me
watching, waiting__
Knowing it won't be long.
His stench is strong__
It fills me with dread.
His image a blur,
face__ a pale orb, not clear at all.
I fade as flowers at Winter's song,
growing ever weaker.
I'm unable to rise
from my bed.
There awaits no Angel
at Heaven's gate.
Wrapped deep within
the specter's embrace
I'll be carried away
to Hell's torment.
I have filled my life with evil
and shown mercy to none.
I feel no remorse.
I lived my life
and caused harm to many.
Their pain and suffering__
I did not lament.
To change now__
it's much too late.
I missed my chance
to change life's course.
The specter's image
becomes quite clear.
He stands close__
arms open wide.
Eyes__ black, hollow spheres.
The stench is overwhelming.
It gags me.
In fear I now tremble
as he moves to my side.
Life__ precious life__
I gasp, but there is no air.
His black cloak round me flows__
swallowing me in its coldness.
The suffering I caused__
is now my own.
Copyright 2005 E. G. Parsons
All Rights Reserved
