the Grim Reaper

ummm - speaks for itself, I think

icy fingers
the joints
swollen
blue
and
purple
a sinister rainbow
basking in the shadow
of death
I felt him
inside me
crawling
scraping
at the walls
of my mind

there was nothing
I could do

Author's Note

http://blogging.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/death.jpg

Reviews

[Bowers]

wow, so dark, emotional,... portraying such a picture in my mind... great job..

[Brooke]

This is my kind of poetry, loved it, and it had great imagery!

[Matt Sayer]

Death is in and around us all the time, lurking at the periphery of our vision or at the back of our minds. Death cares not for our struggles, our feelings, our loves, our lives. Death comes whether we are ready or not.

Once again, a brilliant poem that conjures images of the darkness waiting for us all. Well done.

[KLMazon]

Now this is my kind of poetry. Again, your descriptions are so vivid it's open up my mind's eye.

[Lyn Anderson]

why thank you - I thoroughly enjoyed yours and will have to read more - of mine I have posted, try Shades of Red and naked feet - maybe Monsters under the bed too - Cheers.

[KLMazon]

Will do, thank you.

[Quoting Ravens]

my enjoyment of this one made the voices in my mind go "Jesus, you're freaking morbid."

[Lyn Anderson]

Welcome to my lair dearheart where sex death and love are kind of all I deal in. Enjoy.