Death settled onto his dark Cleopatra couch <br />picking admirers who in black auras <br />sought immortality in magnificent deaths. <br /> <br />'I have artists, kings, monarchs, and especially writers <br />who sometimes write their own epitaphs years in advance <br />who cozy up to me seeking my fame and finality. <br />I say to them there will be no communiques you know beyond this <br />but they don't relent <br />some determined to write their final scene <br />for sequestration in all of memory <br />in family <br />in friends or foes minds. <br /> <br />Some believe, I think, <br />that a magnificent life <br />deserves a magnificent death. <br />But you see, ' <br />said Death <br />'so many imitators <br />come to me <br />using me, yes using me for petty means <br />to revenge, guilt slinging, and often accidentally. <br /> <br />I forever have to suffer amateurs in this. <br />Many dress for the occasion <br />identify stardom at last their last equation <br />and I raise my cloak <br />disabuse the few and the many <br />who seek individuality not understanding that <br />I death only distribute <br />rearrangements of individuals <br />into the future many; <br />Individuals too; often see their own demise <br />as death <br />which of course is not true; <br />individuals are only conduits <br />for the what is to come to be. <br />He sighed. <br />I am merely the medium <br />which takes individuality <br />and re-center it <br />into the cosmos.<br /><br />Lonnie Hicks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/death-and-me-2/
