Death by Living, Poetry

Across the void the souls await

Ethereal ravens guard the gates

Though none would dream of trespass within

The hearts beyond cry out for saviour too of sin

From the grasping clutches of the angered saint

Once the highest glory lost to evil man’fested

Reaches out with gnarled claws a timeless feat

Trapped in the cycle of ill-will to hope

Desperately clutching the intangible face

Of those who caged him free of will

The ravens guard the ghastly graves

That none might follow in their wake

The sole survivors of the reapers’ trawl

To net and stow the rebels all

Those who at the end were still

Escaped the wrath of those living still

If living it be truly called

For the endless cycle the end is the head

The tail pierced and broken lays limp

Captured in the jaws of priceless serpent

Upon  which all of time depends

 A master calls a servant to his halls

To flay his life from him so soon too short

The boy cries out but pain to no avail continues

Mercilessly casting him to death

The jaws of the serpent open wide

Swallow the conscious soul inside

For  one poor child the chain is broke

As the mangled tip slips forlornly from the vipers’ grasp

Falling falling through the endless void

The creature wails and hisses out of pain at last

 The crushed and broken body engulfed in flame

Is consumed by the mindless monsters’ blaze

As just another poor heart falls its’ way