Lady Death

Who is Death?

They think Death is the Reaper,
Carrying his scythe,
Able to disappear into vapour,
Like a shadow in light.

But no, Death takes the shape,
Of a person, a woman at that,
With a pitch black cloak a flowing cape,
A crucifix of coal, and grace like a cat.

On rhinestone boots she treads the land,
With midnight eyes she tracks her prey,
A spear of onyx in her hand,
Her hair of ink soaking up every sun's ray.

She dons a studded ebonite vest,
With denim of iron sitting on her hip
A blood stained cutlass at her wrist,
Rings of beryl through her lip.

Her ears are pierced with needle sharp bone,
Her eyelids smudged with ash,
Her mouth a deep, blood-red tone,
the colour of night on each eyelash.

So who is this Queen of Darkness?
Who can she be?
An answer finally comes to a question ageless.
Death, is me.

Reviews

[Stella]

Wow you have done an amazing job with this poem!! I loved everything about it and how the words flow so well together.

[indu]

death in the lady form. great imagination..and it beautifully flowed in ur poem..

[Jesse Jacques]

i thought it was just wonderful. and everybody does think of death as the grim reaper or a man instead of a woman.

[Jazique]

Oh wow that was wonderful great writing of peotry.

[Sweets]

It's a great poem :)
Great work! :D
100/100

[WordsAndVoices]

Great imagery, great poem, very powerful. Keep up the good work.

[Ruth]

Raw and powerful! Wow!
As spoken word, this would be so cool! A little strings and dark keyboard too lol Awesome poem xx

[Geralyn Miller]

A darkness of image to haunt the heart; intense beauty coupled with an almost sorrowful menance.

[Cassiopia Summers]

Haunting, yet with beautiful flow. Great imagery, it's a great poem.