I’ve sauntered through the centuries <br />Constructed this dark legacy, <br />Possessed the air of leprosy <br />And fell upon my feet. <br />I’ve wrangled with the unprepared <br />Pacified the truly scared, <br />Unsuccessfully repaired <br />The dread of when we meet. <br /> <br />I’m there when life is waning <br />Through the thrall of death, abstaining, <br />Till there’s little left remaining <br />But a husk of sand and earth, <br />I’ve marched with every army <br />Rode the crest of each tsunami, <br />But they seldom ever harm me <br />For I know perdition’s worth. <br /> <br />I’m the tourniquet you shy from <br />I’m that final, lasting swan song, <br />I’m the emperor of the throng <br />That no longer has a voice. <br />For they’ve paid their solemn dues <br />As their light of life’s removed, <br />Now my wiles are set on you <br />And you really have no choice. <br /> <br />So when the end’s encroaching <br />A wisp of me approaching, <br />You’ll cry and whimper, hoping <br />That I’ll spare your sulking soul, <br />But that’s not in my nature <br />And there is no power greater, <br />And I’ll never return later <br />‘Cause it’s time to pay deaths toll. <br />12/07/09 ADO<br /><br />Adam Parker<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/he-himself-death/
