It's Not My Time

Death's shadow

The black raven calls warning
into the viscid mist.
From the dampened darkness
the unforgiving shadow emerges,
his towering presence
fills the night with dread.
"Have mercy on me!" she begs
weak in her desperation.
She spills to her knees,
in a stutter of vindication.
In response to her plea
the dark spirit strokes her
rain soaked hair.
An irremediable write off on her soul.
with the last of her strength,
she stands with pride.
she succumbs to her fate
and takes death by the hand.

Author's Note

this poem was written for the picture I shared with it. I liked the dark visual and wanted to put words to it.

Reviews

[Alicia Beavis]

Beautiful imagery and I like your use of personification. It's not terribly original in idea, the personification of death, but you manage to put your own 'twist'/touch of individuality to it that makes it fresh.

I like the dark tone of this piece and enjoyed reading.

[SoulSplatter]

Thank you, I wrote it for the picture I shared; I liked its tone and wanted to put words to it :) I'm glad you liked it.

[Keith]

I read this before really looking at the picture, not surprised to see pretty much the sombre image you had created with your words.

[I Shred This Cabbage]

How desolate and bleak darling...still, very strong writing but nevertheless, talk about the dark night of the soul ;p

[SoulSplatter]

This piece was written for the picture I shared with it. I saw that picture and I had to write about it, dark yes but so is the picture :) Thank you very much I'm glad I captured it in a dark tone hehe

[I Shred This Cabbage]

Now I hadn't connected with the picture... but now you draw my attention to it, you certainly captured the tone... and of course my attention ;) much love