If the fiery eyes
Of a burning night
Should light my way
With moments tight
Pressed against
Deaths window pane
The beads of sweat
Like rolling rain.
And if the echo
Of memories past
Should run their course
My heaving chest
To fight for life
As I fought within
My triumphs rise
Alongside my sins.
As it falls
The curtain black
The fear of death
Staring back
To where to wonder
Or to begin
Forget the triumphs
Forget the sin.
-
Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: August 16th, 2026 03:33
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 65
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange, Sealgair, DLewis88
Offline)
Comments5
It seems in this poem of good rhyme that dualities are compared and in the end it really does not matter all is to be forgotten. Very nicely done the message most subtly sent. Death is the great leveler
many thanks my friend, much appreciated
You are very welcome Norman
Wow, Norman...this is dark, thoughtful, and deeply human. There’s fear in it, but also a stripping away of all the old accounting...success, failure, pride, regret. By the end, what remains feels stark and honest. Beautifully done, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
most kind, thanks and appreciation
when the ink has dried the echo of past sin fades away...
thanks my friend, much appreciated read
Good write N.
Yes, the ink has had plenty of time to dry while you wrote this poem waiting for that bus! lol.
not only dried but faded away lol
The play is over, so the roles no longer matter.
exactly, thanking you much appreciated
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.