deepundergroundpoetry.com
Along The Wooden Fence
T’was his last night upon this earth
No farewells did he need to speak
He viewed his death as a rebirth
Knowing this world was not for meek
He ate his meal which was the last
And juice on lips did drip blood red
He took the drink and left his past
All was complete and left unsaid
Flowers bent from torrents of rain
He walked along the wooden fence
Clouds hung over the muddy lane
He found the spot to lose his sense
With sunken head slouched under tree
His death’s long gaze did stare at me
No farewells did he need to speak
He viewed his death as a rebirth
Knowing this world was not for meek
He ate his meal which was the last
And juice on lips did drip blood red
He took the drink and left his past
All was complete and left unsaid
Flowers bent from torrents of rain
He walked along the wooden fence
Clouds hung over the muddy lane
He found the spot to lose his sense
With sunken head slouched under tree
His death’s long gaze did stare at me
Published 16th Jan 2014
| Edited 4th Feb 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.
16th Jan 2014 2:15am
16th Jan 2014 2:36am
Thank you. I'll catch up on reading yours too. I've been out of town so haven't had a chance to read as much as I want to this week.
16th Jan 2014 3:30am
ok cool. Your a good poet. Also click reply to a comment for they know you relied to them
18th Jan 2014 2:23am
interesting
i deal with death a lot in my writings and always pity Death, what a hard job it would be
very good read
i deal with death a lot in my writings and always pity Death, what a hard job it would be
very good read
18th Jan 2014 3:54am
Thank you. I think of death as a transition not an ending, but not due to any religious convictions (I have none). I think of the dissolution of our personal identity and wonder whether it makes sense to think of death as merely an opposite to life.
18th Jan 2014 1:48pm
This is a very good piece of writing.
Your last line gave me chills.
I have this theory that everytime we go to sleep it's a little death, for one never knows if they will wake.
Great offering.
Your last line gave me chills.
I have this theory that everytime we go to sleep it's a little death, for one never knows if they will wake.
Great offering.
18th Jan 2014 1:57pm
I think you theory is right.
I remember as a child, when I was sick with fever, I felt that state between sleep and wakefulness where I perceived my surroundings but not myself, as though I were obliterated, and thus did death first touch me.
I remember as a child, when I was sick with fever, I felt that state between sleep and wakefulness where I perceived my surroundings but not myself, as though I were obliterated, and thus did death first touch me.
