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by Amaya Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1275174
Death courted me.

Death Courting

He held his dead, brittle flower
Out to me
Like a courtier
Would hold a rose
And within the flower
I found
A kind of eerie beauty

And within his eyes
I saw
A love of deepest truth
His love for me
Rose like to moon
All dark and shadows, light

His love for me,
Rose up so soon
It caught me
Off-balance
Off-time.

His love grew and grew
I watched
As he began to court me
He always offers
That brittle flower
A symbol of his beauty

He’s dark and velvet and silver and grey
Like the shadow of the moon
You think you see
When staring into it’s darker half

And I knew it wouldn’t be long until
He had my life in hand
So beauty,
He never spoke
Just offered that silent courting
I found it harder to resist
The place within me yearning.

His love for me grew each day
And in turn, I felt it, too
I wanted, hoped for, yearned and strived
To be with him anew

I wanted for my soft, warm lips
To touch, to press
His cold, icy mouth

And never did I think this through
That perhaps I strove and yearned for
What desperately could not be
And yet I allowed
This twisted fantasy
Of me with him
And him with me.

His courting grew more intense
And each time I saw him, I knew
Our touches lingered
On my arm
Dark lines
My veins
They slew.

Each interaction,
Time we shared
Touch we held
And kiss we stole
Drove more and more
Signs upon my skin
But never did I think
That he who courted me could be
Who he was at last, who he was to me

His name, he had always said
Did not matter a bit
But after I had pledge myself to him
He whispered his name
In my ear
So soft
A kiss
Of butterfly wings
I was sure
I had
Misheard.

But no,
As I lay there
My arms
Strangely
Ice
I realized
What he said was true
And in that truth
I died.

His name, you ask?
Obvious and true
His name was Death
He courted me
And in the end
I flew.

© Copyright 2007 Amaya (amaya at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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