November 4, 2016

death flows soft about me

its lovely form too near

far too alluring to escape

stands astride this narrow way

on which my life depends

I have not tripped nor fallen

as steps near skirt the verge

where life is held to hazard

the dance death always leads

no give-and-take, no dialog

but sudden gasping fall

relentless to destruction

if in life I am less than holy

all can be said against is “No!”

discussion fails, I am doomed

if in life I am less than holy