Death

 

 

Death, sweetheart, remind me of thy ancient sting?

When all that is mortal is again dear-bright!

Void of story, empty of narrative

I live without enraptured self-centeredness!

Spare me not, do thy worst

Take my youth and withhold love from me

My mouth shines open now

But I cannot sing, the songs of life!

Give my bones heart-aches

Make my womb a barren place

Teach me to empathize more than possess

And I will grow an old soul in long years

Slow, as the melodies of my internal despair

Sheltered, I will walk without friends

The dry dust will not cling to my tears

Death, I know you are not a hideous thing

Simply the bell of change, on my miracle skin.