Death Poem by Jorge Garcia

I'm sure you've seen him
with a great robe
flailing wildly
with no wind apparent
and his mouth
with sharp teeth bared
impatiently waiting for you to run

One way or another you've seen him
standing by your grandfather's bed
making faces at you in the dark
as he gibbers nonsense
and mocks you
as your only link to the last generation
wastes away at his hand

and I'm sure you've ran
for you fear what is unknown
yet now know this
he is not to be feared

his teeth are nothing more than wax
and his power nothing more
than gaudy tricks
played through the veil
of your mortality

do not run children
stay steadfast
he is terrified of you
more so than you of him
your life
a light in the darkness
and your smile
a knife to a bare-fisted fight