I keep death prisoner

[kevinthediltz]

Death waits for me at the door.
Like looking into a mirror.
Skin dripping off bones.
I keep it locked away.

Boots click on the concrete floor
It paces back and forth in its cell
Beating the walls
Feeding on the dark

Its plea is tempting
Spoken through a crack
"I'm waiting for you
Let me free you from this"

It pants and houls and waits for a fall
Licks the air for blood
Tastes my weakness
Waiting and watching

I give it nothing
I have nothing to give
I keep it prisoner
A trophy in my cellar


(Inspired by a line from "The Collector" by John Fowles)

[paperleaves]

This poem is chilling. Working at a hospital, I feel as if this seeming personification of death is accurate....his temptation to relieve the horrifying amounts of pain is not even enough to send these people away, their lives may be fragile, and their afflictions sour, but death is something we all lock away.


thanks for sharing
love
paper

[Silas Thorne]

Another happy 'sun is shining weather is sweet/ makes me wanna move my dancing feet'
poem, Kevin. :) hehe! Excellently cold and dark! I like the idea of Death locked in the cellar stalking back and forth and tempting through the cracks.

Just a minor thing: 'houls' should be 'howls', I think.