Facing Mortality

my finger is on the trigger

the needle is in the vein

my blood is on my hands

my soul is in disarray

 

my dreams are littered with death

the smells soak my dreams

drenching my bed sheets

awakening, bound in linen and sweet

 

in the distance I see fields

littered with red poppies

drooping, dripping in the morning mist

bending with the weight of the unknown

 

mortality waits at every turn

the knife blade glints in the morning dew

the bare wrist looks inviting

as the knife slides silently into its sheath

 

the red mist clears

the sun breaks through the clouds

my soul is in my hands

the red poppies look beautiful this morning

© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

 

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