The Swarming of Peace

Sun, 06/19/2016 - 20:04 -- kptml

One still night,

In some stolen moment passed,

From my slumber

Mountained a hush and,

From this hush,

Rose death

 

His calloused grip

Sent Fear slowly soaking

Down from my scalp

To the freezing bits of my toes

 

He turned my limbs to lead,

Forcing me to either rise

To meet him, or to

Suffocate under the stillness

Of my own 

Phantom breaths

 

In resignation, I uncoiled

My spirit from my spine

And crawled out from 

The cage

That I had once called

My body

 

It was then Fear, not Courage,

Who clenched my jaw

And fixed my gaze

Upon Death's face,

Forcing me to take in

His presence

 

His scent stole into my nostrils,

Gagging and burying

My already

Unbreathing form

 

He turned to lead me

Away, leaving behind no more

Evidence in the wake

Of our departure

Than a trail of dripping soot

 

Arriving at the

Gates of heaven

He left me, but

Not without first 

Releasing a whisper,

Hot and dry,

Upon my ear

 

As the gates opened

To welcome me,

And angels began to

Dance around me,

I found there was 

Still no refuge

For me to wrap around 

My exhaustion

And shield me

From the words he had

Released upon my mind

 

In the midst of perfection

I remembered my youth,

And behind new eyes

I contemplated

Marked-out plans that would

Never come to fruition

 

His question repeated

Achingly in the caverns

Of my mind

Until my very skull

Began to burn

 

Melting down my back,

The whisper ran 

With needle claws,

Paralyzing my stride

And setting my stomach

To boil,

Raising a scream to my

Blistering throat

 

The hell in my mouth

Vomited into the 

Paradise around me, and

"Time" hung

Gasping in the space

Where time was no longer

Allowed, not unlike

The childhood that is often seen

Begging in the corners

Of serious eyes

 

So many moments yet

To be accomplished

Snatched from 

My horizon,

Moments designed never to

Be achieved

 

A swarming peace

Struggled to tame

The breath of the

Thing said,

But even in the calm

Of the panic,

Death's question sat in

My ear,

Asking,

Demanding,

Mocking;

 

"What have you ever done?"

This poem is about: 
Me

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