A Storm of Crows ~
Death has visited you, a hair’s breath of a fingertip;
yet a caress not placed.
She stared longingly and then flitted away.
You felt her. Didn’t you?
Now, where ignorance was once rooted,
fear remains fixed.
Where a true smile did reside,
now only a tumultuous dark blue sea.
For you see, you think that is all for you to see.
Push, push, push it down.
But it bubbles up and it makes you wonder why.
Will there be pain? A forever Darkness ?
A release? The End of ends? Where will I go?
Shall I just dissolve into nothing?
Death came, it did indeed.
In a storm of crows she rode on the winds of fate.
Neither bleak nor sweet.
That has always been her way.
No malice or malcontent.
For her duty is simply to carry you away.
Not to think of things of nonsense.
In a life yet here and now.
by Philip Wardlow 2016