A Message

I heard death. He spoke to me.

Can you say my name-

death? Shout it out loud

for I'll offer you a game

a game that cowers the crowd.

I don't need 

the strong, the weak, nor the just

for I'll offer anyone a deed

a deed depicted by anger and lust.

Is it fear I smell

or is it curiosity?

Do you want to take it and dwell?

If so, I shall write you a profanity.

I can promise you peace

I can give you whatever you desire

But first you must cease,

all the love that burns with fire.

Come, my child take my hand.

Take this curse with you and share,

walk with it in this forsaken land.

Wear my horns, this is my dare. 

Author's Note

It's been a while.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

The devil isn't so kind.
"Come, my child take my hand.
Take this curse with you and share,
walk with it in this forsaken land.
Wear my horns, this is my dare. "
He will test you and take you at-will. Thank you for the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[dan]

This is actually quite good. Writing in the voice of death can be cumbersome and hard to fix the right emotional feel to it. The way that you write, asking that certain conditions be satisfied ("I can promise you peace...but first you must cease") before the process can be completed is a very strong and demanding ploy, asking the reader to analyze these conditions to satisfy the structure and feeling of the write. Very well done! take care...dan