Awaken from your slumber, lass
Behold his eyeless face
The seeming horror to the ‘live
Is really touched by grace!
Climb aboard his dreamy craft
And pay a two pound note
For a guide in Hell will not abide
A spendthrift in his boat…
Behold the lawn of prairie fire
The hot ash in your eyes
T’will make you wish you’d gone to church
Beneath those pale blue skies!
But crying will not help you now
Disrobe, and take your licks
For weeping blisters beat hands down
A swim in yonder Styx…
-
Author:
Fränz Müller (
Offline) - Published: August 8th, 2025 15:11
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence
Offline)
Comments2
This is a wonderfully worded poem of the grim reaper, angel of death, Charon or who ever. Loved it a fave
A very nicely crafted write and description of the lord of the dark , enjoyed the read
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.