Michael J Zhan


Beyond Death - Poem by Michael J Zhan

Gushing through the air,
Her brown strands sprayed,
Onto the precipice of a pin.
Her cold feet strayed.

Stumbling to a stilted flight,
A whistle, a whine, a thud, her death,
Breaking bones echoing the end
To the gentle whispers of her breath.

Blue lips kiss the pavement,
Arms spread in embrace
Of her fragile, crimson mortality,
Dripping down the drain.

The tabloids wail a damning dirge,
A cacophony, a murder of crows,
Cawing of the agony, the melancholy,
The waste, the close.

Hurriedly, luridly the editors cry,
‘She could have been saved, she needn’t have died, ’
Frozen black letters depict her departure,
And detail her slow, incessant slide.

Her mother dead,
Her father drunk,
Her boyfriend left,
Her dreams sunk.

She was teased, she was taunted,
About an affair of fiction.
Her friends watched solemnly
Her social crucifixion.

But, what is life but
Vanity and boredom.
Maybe death offered her
Her own kind of freedom.

Perhaps that’s all she wanted – to be free
As the birds in the sky.
Perhaps she’s finally at peace,
Perhaps she finally can fly.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, September 20, 2010



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