Immortality

A Poem by Mike Zentz

His body was broken and beaten,
blood retreating from his veins,
slow inevitable struggle,
like holding the edge of a cliff.

Willing himself to life
while his mortal flesh betrayed him,
he could see the stars through clouded vision,
focusing and unfocusing.

His hand still firmly clasped his sword,
teeth clenched, eyes blazing.
His task was unfinished,
though his doom was at hand.

He cried to the mountains
He cried to the moon
He cried to the night
He cried to the stars

I will never die
I will never die!