Shadow of the Butterfly Posted May 9, 2003 Report Posted May 9, 2003 Fingers steady grasp feathered quill Though the cold leaves them numb With deft accuracy the author retrieves more ink from the pot All around him chaos reigns, torrents of confusion abound To his left, the ground is rent with scars Ripped apart by the trampling of many frightened feet And still he writes To his right, a cliff drops off sharply, plunging to the depths of the sea There are cries of the lost and wandering That echo through the fog that drifts And still he writes, slow and steady Peace had long since left his lands The parchment on which he wrote was his last A light approaches in the distance Un-noticed by our author until just as it arrives The blinking beacon in the night was held up and away Leaving the bearer's face in cloaking darkness "It is Time, Old One." a voice murmured softly within the depths of the darkness The man looks steadily towards where he can only assume the eyes are "One last sentence, and it is Time." he replied, dipping his quill once more With the patient sigh of a being where time was all and nothing, the silence proved acquiscence The Old One scritch-scratched the last word and looked up He stood and faced The Darkness "It is Time." Our author smiled steadily as the milky hand snaked out of the inky depths of the cloak With his last breath he murmured "Sweet Jesus" And fell, the wind rocking the lamp at the end of the scythe As Death moved on
Tasslehoff Posted May 11, 2003 Report Posted May 11, 2003 You have much tallent my lady butterfly.. Very well written poem. I like how it tells a story.. very intruiging
gjunon Posted May 11, 2003 Report Posted May 11, 2003 i like this poem great story is there a connection to your life? just curious
Ayshela Posted May 11, 2003 Report Posted May 11, 2003 i *like* this! very vivid imagery. i especially like the idea of bargaining with Death for time enough to write that one last sentence. Oddly, this rather reminds me of On A pale Horse, of the Incarnation of Immortality series. An image of a compassionate Death, who will get the necessary job done yet patiently wait for one to finish writing. This is very nicely done.
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