Death
Grey.
Bleak.
Death.
Is what one may see, taste, smell, and hear.
Touching the cold concrete of graves.
Underneath you can't help but overhear
The rotting corpses that once spoke of life.
Decay.
Bones.
Death.
Is what one envisions of the dead.
Haunting you as Autumn rain soaks
The clothing as your heart fills with dread.
That one day you'll be like them.
Forgotten.
Souls.
Death.
Is what you feel against the stone.
Trying to picture a man named Moore.
Do you feel cold and all alone?
Your soul leaving to the unknown?
Pray.
Life.
Death.
Is what you know in your heart.
That death is just another door to life.
Heaven the absolute perfect art.
Is there any need to fear our timely death?
I like the idea of death being another door to life. At least I think I do - who?! A beautifully written and constructed piece.
ReplyDeletehttp://keithsramblings.blogspot.com/2011/11/written-for-magpie-tales-there-were-not.html
Thought provoking and full of truth.....a beautiful write!
ReplyDeletethought provoking indeed. love this...
ReplyDeleteJJRod'z
It hits right at the core doesn't it?
ReplyDeleteThought provoking indeed! I don't fear death, but I am far from ready yet!
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
deep and beautiful.
ReplyDeletewelcome sharing a random or relevant poetry with us today.
:)