November 4, 2016

 

death flows soft about me
its lovely form too near
far too alluring to escape
stands astride this narrow way
on which my life depends
I have not tripped nor fallen
as steps near skirt the verge
where life is held to hazard
the dance death always leads
no give-and-take, no dialog
but sudden gasping fall
relentless to destruction
if in life I am less than holy




all can be said against is “No!”
discussion fails, I am doomed
if in life I am less than holy