The Walk

The Walk

A Poem by LuciersHeir
"

A poem about walking with death

"

I sit here alone, all in dismay,
Sitting here surrounded by the smell of death and decay.
There's a slight breeze blowing,
But not a sound...As I sit by this grave,
With no one around.


The silence is maddening, but still I am sound,
For there by the gravestone , a cloaked figure is found.

He's perched upon the tombstone, with a sickle in hand,
His voice whispers, beckoning me to Summerland.

As he leaves, I follow,Taking his hand...Hearing the call I follow into the Summerland.

I feel the pull, from this life to the next,
Walking, and wondering who has placed upon me this hex,
This curse, whatever it be; then the figure whispers...
Oh Gods! I realize the cloaked figure is me.

© 2009 LuciersHeir


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Reviews

well ty for your critique, I , have a lot of poetry that seems morbid or psychotic, but it really isn't.
You kind of have to read between the lines in order to catch my meaning sometimes.

Blessed Be!

Tim

Posted 15 Years Ago


ummm... ok good detail i can tell you that and that i like it!

Posted 15 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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110 Views
2 Reviews
Added on March 26, 2009

Author

LuciersHeir
LuciersHeir

Waynesboro, PA



About
I am a Pagan High priest who enjoys writing poetry, am working 2 novels and enjoy gaming.I enjoy discussing the occult and reading occult related books. more..

Writing
A Rose A Rose

A Poem by LuciersHeir