September 19th, 2007
Death
Death walks alone through the blackened mist of the midnight air.
He walks upon the clouds, slicing his way through with his sickle.
Peasants crouch in the corners, fearing for their lives.
Who has Death come for tonight?
Is it the mother who has had the difficult pregnancy, and is having trouble birthing?
Is it the sickly child who has not been well in two months?
Has Death finally come for the ancient man who is a century old?
Or has he come for you?
Or me?
Death offers no clue.. no warning.
He treads his path in silence, with no emotion on his solid, palid face.
And as you watch his back become engulfed by the mist,
A tremor quakes your body, and you release a sigh of relief.
For it was not you tonight.
Death did not come for you tonight.
But as you shiver in your darkened corner,
You wonder, will he come for you tomorrow?
Written February 5th, 1996
Thaydra