When death comes
I’ll need not love –
Consumed,
No wreath or dove
Could offer me salvation,
Not when I’m no more.
A weathered stone will bear my name –
Identity of once a being
Living out existence in
A world of risk, and never seeing
Sense of why we’re here.
My genes will die away thro’ child –
Hue of eyes and hair, the way of thought,
Will quickly dim with generation –
Bow to future dominance –
Memories of provenance
Resigned to curious few.
When death comes
I’ll need not grace
Below; no grieving face
Will call my resurrection,
Not when I’m at ground –
Death and I so bound.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Death Crawl
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death death death death death death death death death death death
The first and last stanzas I found to be especially exemplary. The body discusses existential pointlessness, perhaps flirting with the randomness of life even at a quantum scale. But remaining focused on the teleology. The simplicity of some of the sentences, such as being merely no more, is striking and concise. Even our genes, the biological record of our existence will be slowly diluted. A concept like being slowly erased. Still, death becomes a passive emotion and concept. Even though that is what it is, I feel it would be even more striking as an actual character. However, this poem is great as-is.
I love this poem...so deep and the way I too think... thnx fo writing and sharing it.
Very emotional bt simple displayin the loneliness dt comes with death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i love this poem sir, and also read my poem