Mark R Slaughter
Mark R Slaughter Poems
It's Death Again
It's Death again - He's always there -
Watching, waiting - e'er the stare!
Every time I look behind
Or reach to pull the window blind,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood -
A little clue to where he stood;
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…
But O! no use, he'll never go.
The adamant phantom; don't you know
He will but wait until it's time
For me to hear His fateful chime? -
The toll that claims my destiny,
To Hail: 'You're next, it has to be…'
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter ...
The Chess Game
To see that regal chessboard stand -
Prominent, eminent, historically grand;
Refined in polished real-wood veneer,
Exuding class for all to revere.
But of a moment, the board stood incomplete -
No fighting ranks prepared to meet.
No chessmen stood, enticing war,
To challenge and strategise, for points to score.