Death's Transcendence

Of what transcendence does death manifest its macabre touch?
Like black steel claws that torment the crippled while grinding on their crutch.
How ominous this pall cast over the world and so falls the curtain of night
And in the dusk while light retreats from its daily reign and blinding gripe
Is death's transcendence that of a festering putrid corpse riddled with pus spewing boils and maggots?
Or a soul that ventures from the cadaver and so delecate so soft and fragile?
Neither of these notions nor many more can articulate deaths grasp
Until they collapse famished and weak, dried and shriveling their heart heaves and voice rasps
Upon that suffering and final expenditure of life do they know
That deaths frigid grip consumes their body and drags their soul so low
Its very existence is a puzzle in itself, a labyrynthian algorithm unsolved
But alas my silent horrified audience you must have life resolved
This pain and strife and relentless pursuit of your hollow endeavored lust
With such corruption, apathy, and avarice how does your god trust?
So loving and kind and benevolent is he, who stoops to pull you on your feet
Surely you must realize that lingering possibility that alone youll be in true defeat
Lying on your back, limp and stagnant as the musky air in an ancient tomb
The finale of vitality and the wretched conclusion to the body.
But what of your soul? You may ask, with hopeful eyes gazing at me
Your soul so decadent to the devourer's tongue makes you a delecacy
Such regal, marvelous, succulent ambrosia your soul is a treat
For the illustrious darkness to ravenously tear you into shreds and it starvingly eats
The insatiable thirst that flourishes in the absence of such sustenance
Is quenched when one does not make his repentance
So you are strained and liquified, fermented in your guilt and remorse
Then poured so smooth and suave into its chalice as a toast to the new course
But you are an exquisite wine, that must be sipped more cautious than any other brew
For your price is much higher than a bottle of Henri Jayer Richebourg Grand Cru.
So tell me. What is deaths transcendence?

Reviews

[Laz K.]

This reminds me of Puritan sermons on the one hand, and Romantic meditations on death of body vs. that of the soul. Important questions to ponder, I'd say.

[Chance]

Very powerful poem. Nicely done.