In the center of his eye.
There we lay so close to the center of deaths eye.
Not many places our soul can hide,
The reaper has wings that allow him to soar high.
To places our breath would simply die.
But if you asked me to describe him,
I would simply sell you thin.
For I have not seen him the mysterious gentleman in disguise.
He waits for you to close your eyes for the last time,
To take you to a place so sublime.
So tell him “Do me in O sweet demise“.
Cause I do not wish to fall from your grace,
Always looking through the faces,
Waiting to look into his pale horses’ eye.
Just before, he drags me of into the sky!
So if you come across this immortal person,
Will you tell him please just before you die?
Say these words and do not lie,
“There is another who waits for this ride,
Therefore, if you can take him, I will wait to die“.
10 13 2010.
I like how you presented this
I like how you presented this journey as a "ride". Funny thing, I was just reading MaeeaM's "Dead,Death,Same Diff." just before I read your poem here about the character, "Death". Thoughts about him are rising now, don't know if it is because of Halloween or just because so many of us are seeing the uselessness all around us. It makes a good topic for a poem though.
This is one of my favorites from you. You are most poetic here in your descriptions--"there we lay so close to the center of death's eye", "the reaper has wings that allow him to soar high", and my most favorite line, "Do me in O sweet demise"--there are more, but I would have to write your whole poem here to mention them! Definitely some of your poetic best here. I would say you not only hit the target, but you hit the "bull's eye".
10 13 2010.
This is a nice story poem.
This is a nice story poem.