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The Myth Called Death

A found poem using words and phrases from Edgar Allan Poe's "The Sleeper"

By Cristal S.Published about a year ago β€’ 1 min read
Photo by Vedad Colic on Pexels

πŸ–€

πŸ–€πŸ–€

πŸ–€πŸ–€πŸ–€

At midnight,

I stand beneath the mystic moon.

Breathe in the moment –

embark our joined eternity,

my dearest darling June.

πŸ–€

The sun has set,

by now you’ve met

the land of first and last of breath.

πŸ–€

Or should I rather say instead,

I sealed our fate in crimson red.

As symbol for the truest bond,

that marks our hearts for life beyond.

πŸ–€

And softly dripping, drop by drop

the sacred wine of life.

Pouring down your mountain top

to flush us into afterlife.

πŸ–€

I turn my gaze up to the skies,

and heart to truth instead of lies.

Far in the forest, dim and old,

where no one sees, I now can hold

your earthly body, soft and silky.

In midst of darkness I am guilt free.

πŸ–€

The pines around us, tall and straight,

in joint with moonlight blue, create

swaying shadows, wordless song,

the wanton airs too sing along.

πŸ–€

So fitfullyβ€”so fearfullyβ€”

I lower you so carefully,

into the bed

I have prepared

for us 'til end of time to share.

πŸ–€

One last look,

one final breath,

before I face the myth called death.

I pray to God that we may lie

forever past our final sigh.

πŸ–€

I now join you there, my love,

floating on the hush above.

Hand in hand eternally,

fulfilling our souls' destiny.

And this all solemn silentness

confirms that we, at last, are blessed.

πŸ–€πŸ–€πŸ–€

πŸ–€πŸ–€

πŸ–€

This poem was created in response to the ViMs challenge "Poe-Found"

Free Verselove poems

About the Creator

Cristal S.

I've noticed that when I follow the path I enjoy most, I often end up swimming upstream. So here I am, right in the middle of it – writing about it all and more. β™‘

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    Written by Cristal S.