And, should my hemispheres ever ossify,
Freezing logic's mind from reason's plane,
Should I ever be trapped in desuetude-
Close my eyes, love, and tell me you love me.
While I slept the Reaper stood o'er my dream,
Its ominous presence disturbs and distorts-
Deliverance aborted by th' wings of dawns Angel,
I felt her prowess in the womb of my spirit,
Felt the wrath of her rescue beneath my soul-
Snap th' Reapers neck in shards of seven.
Upon waking from this paragon of assurance
I fear not th' moment my lungs surrender breath.
Close my eyes, love, come th' day I no longer can-
smile at yo'rs, as that be a fate worse then death.
©MMXVII-All rights reserved
Frank James Ryan, Jr / FjR
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem