Scrapin' along long bars, her cup of tea <br />Was sweeter than honey and the honeycomb. <br />There were gleams in her eyes and her esprit. <br />A breeze was comin' from a funeral home. <br />The Moon's hollow eyes climb'd the night to see <br />The ashes of dead and the fire fill'd with foam. <br />From dawns o' hope to sunsets o' despair, <br />The leaves were shadows dancin' in the cold air. <br /> <br />Her rigid body was a glassy slight. <br />Ne'er dying white lilies threw one off the scent. <br />Tearin', roarin', she felt her soul in light, <br />In sweet, comin' death with pitiful lament. <br />Her soul had terrified wings for her flight. <br />She was confin'd, lagg'd in fears by devil's night. <br />She bestrode the abyss holdin' the pain. <br />She could 'scape of whippin' memories in vain. <br /> <br />She felt a scent of garbage and perfume. <br />The fog was in her eyes; she wheez'd in fear. <br />She search'd the Heaven to dispel her gloom, <br />But she couldn't o'erpass her last life frontier, <br />More than real, o'er her new returnin' doom, <br />She lost her happiness, but she felt her tear. <br />She was aware of all she had to leave <br />Through her hellish paradise startin' to reeve.<br /><br />Marieta Maglas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/clinical-death-ottava-rima-poem/
