Wednesday, 17 May 2017


In the carnage of that that is war,
she touched by icy fingers of impending Death,
he rasps her (unwelcome) welcome as
he sucks in her last dying breath.

He finds a peculiar warmth there,
a tincture of her fear,
a scintilla of her hope there
as she knows that Death is near.

Oh how she fights it, her
heart pounding in chest,
a clock ceasing in relentless time
as he lays her out to rest

Her vision is forever dimmed
by the blackness in her eyes.
She is enveloped by the darkness
as she knowingly slowly dies.

He has won then,
his duty almost done,
she is enveloped by the darkness
as he blocks out rising sun.

She returned to the earth then,
her life is but her death,
relinquishing all her hope then,
she bequeathing her last breath.

She searches for the bright light
as promised by her God
and much to her displeasure
finds there is naught but neath the sod…

Anna :o]

Mish at dVerse has us writing of sensory play, that is, an abstract view of the senses.  I really don’t know if my offering fits the bill as it is not pretty, but nevertheless is what came to mind (from where I do not know!). Maybe an abstract of an abstract..?

Image:  Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Author:  Soumyadipto


indybev said...

I came here a happy little soul, and now I'm nonplussed. Your title should be "Poem Macabre! It is masterfully written. One wonders from whence it came.

Jericho said...

Ha ha. Great comment up there. :) ^

What a tragic ending! But I really love this line: "a clock ceasing in relentless time"

Glenn Buttkus said...

Definitely darkly abstract--declaring, reinforcing the fears, the darkness of many closer to transition than entrance.Seventh Day Adventists believe one finds nothing, & will remain in stasis until Jesus returns. Buddhists talk of deathly fields of spiritual lumps waiting for eternity and a day, while they skip off to Bardo for life reviews & next reincarnation panning.

Mark Walters said...

Her breath was sucked from her throat in the death rattle. The Grim Reaper took her to the earth. Sounds pretty spooky

Sanaa Rizvi said...

My goodness this is absolutely phenomenal writing, Anna!

brudberg said...

This so far from comfort that I love it. Somehow I feel buried alive with soil filling my mouth.. brilliant

Jane Dougherty said...

I fear that the last breath is going to be just that. No secrets beneath the sod. Suffocating for eternity. Grim.

Anonymous said...

and that is why he is called GRIM

Anonymous said...

Although this has a sad ending, I can't help there is more: as marked by "sod...".

Mish said...

I also had the feeling of being buried alive...not ready to succumb to the end. A very captivating read. Thanks for joining in with the prompt.

Frank Hubeny said...

I suppose that is a possibility, but I think those reporting near and shared death experiences suggest there is something more no matter what one's views of God are or even if one has no particular view of God.

Gretchen Leary said...

I love this stanza

"She returned to the earth then,
her life is but her death,
relinquishing all her hope then,
she bequeathing her last breath."

The blackness of her eyes really stood out to me as well. This poem made my heart race with sorrow. Well done.