Mortality

black is the colour

red is the number

blue is the steel of the knife

lost is the answer

what is the question



gray is the smoke

orange is the glow

the smoke curls upwards

mortality is the answer

preservation is at stake



golden is the silence

orange is the colour

ripping the silence apart



crystal are the tears

raining down on the moment



lost is still the answer

the question remains uncertain

all that is certain

is mortality

 

© 2016 Michael D Emmerich

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