An Eerie One

[Thanatos]

Vulture's perch,
With branches like
Twisted, misshapen hands
Rise to the thundrous sky.
A chill wind stirs the grasses,
That curl against the blackened
Trunk, fighting for shelter from
The ominous air.

A man steps forth,
Shielding his face against
The gale.
He is no longer young and
Sees little hope in the future
In this barren land.
Lightening flashes, the rain
Falls, lashing the man's pale face.

He looks up, to an
Unforgiving sky,
His face pale and harsh.
Stubborness marks him and
He screams his rage at the
Heavens: he has not forgotten.
Overhead in the widowmaker,
The vulture laughs.

This reminds him
Of a different time,
When things were better.
When his belov'd still walked
By his side, laughing,
When also, he was young, handsome.
But death holds no prejudice,
It takes old and young alike.

He has loved, and lost,
Mourned, and grown old in his time.
Now his time is grown short,
But he doesn't turn from it.
No he faces it with bitterness,
And also a little hope,
For his final peace.
The end is near.

He shoulders the cold,
Under that unforgiving sky,
Feeling the chilled wind.
And the grasses curl
Around the blackened trunk
That rise to twisted,
Misshapen, hand-like,
Cruel branches,
A vulture's perch.
Thanatos, January 5th, 2000



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Thanatos//:{

[monzon]

WOW,that was a very vivid tale you painted and i found it rather beautiful in a harsh way,thanx i really enjoyed it...

guille

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greetings earthling!

[Thanatos]

Thanx for reading it! I enjoyed yours too, under 'Torture Time'.

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Thanatos//:{

WOW!!! Very cool indeed. Thanks for the vivid description.

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Gaol, Dilseachd, Cairdeas