Poem -
DEATH'S TONGUE
There are corpses
Alone sometimes I see
Alone sometimes, I hear
The inkling of an invitation
Bleeding from
Death's tongue,
Like inΒ the purity of a whisper
The creeper cometh,
Withers the garland
Upon your brow
And exalts in the idea
That you will come
To the gray tomb
And,
In the cold dust
Be equal made
By cool intimacies
So softly whispered
By death's tongue,
Malevolently considered......
Tony Taylor
Β
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Comments
Only in deaths own good time my good friend, only in deaths good time.
Nigel.
Amen to that SIR NIGEL!!.......good lookin' out my friend!!......LOVE & ROCKETS!!.....T xo ??β΄β€β€β΄?
Wow you Are such an amazing talent.Β Thanks for sharing
Cool!!......Thanx GREG!!......much appreciated bro!!.......heading to your page momentarily!!.......smiles........T xoΒ Β ??β΄β€β΄?
Thanx for the stars GERARD!!.....smiles......T xo β€
You do darkness proud, "T".
Ya know, when old bone face comes around we'd better have our bags packed and be ready to go.
He can't be bargained with.
He has no compassion, no sympathy...no tender mercies.
He has a job to do and he does it quite well.
Well penned...
~Dean βΎ~β οΈ β°οΈ β οΈ~β½
With life being so short and precarious the obsession with death is natural and overwhelming. Many civilized societies have focused on it in cultural icons and in belief systems because we need comfort and reassurance at time of loss.
Death is portrayed here in a wonderfully respectful way instigating thought on its nature as a gateway to the hereafter. This poem also highlights the concentrated assessment of it becoming more prevalent as aging takes place, with increased frailty. To be in its company is non-negotiable and losing some around you magnifies this fact !!
Great deeper thinking poetry leading to reflection. Good job ! This one brings reality home.
Thanks for sharing.
Take care my friend.
Warm wishes.Β :)