LIFE WITHOUT MERCY

a view of impending death

Shadows, melted with silver rain

retire. The sky is gray.

He flees, (in fear he will be lost) 

The rushing, gushing clay.

The clay, the sallow, yellow clay

is, but the Net Of Death,

pursuing fleeing feet until,

at last, they're out of breath.

The sun breaks through the heavy boughs,

and lightens up the trees.

The heaviness thus leaves my soul,

and sets my heart at ease.

Reviews

[Cherrie]

What a stirring piece. I love that you closed the poem with hope intact.

[Coyote Poetry]

A sunny day. Can lift the sadness away.
"The sun breaks through the heavy boughs,
and lightens up the trees.
The heaviness thus leaves my soul,
and sets my heart at ease"
I enjoyed your poem and I liked the above lines. Thank you Mandy for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote