Death’s Hand
By: James Dubeau
I can feel
Death’s boney finger
Hovering high above
Waiting
To grasp me
To pull me under
Joining those
Who have gone before
My heavy eyes
Accept the fate
He has in store
I could fight
To stay awake
To take matters
Into my own hands
But I am weak
Exhausted
The fight gone
From these old bones
I let darkness
Wash over me
And the skeletal hand
Drag me under
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
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