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Click hereWhistled awake from sleep
by the sweep of the reaper’s scythe
as it grazes my brow
for now I am alive, but in it’s wake
follow the faces of those now absent
either by circumstance or his hand
Out of sorts, my psyche shivers,
my stomach quivers digesting
what if’s and when’s
the narrow escape rapes my sense
of tomorrow and it’s possibilities
emotions slither along my skin
cause goose bumps , deliver tears to my eyes
as mortality clears the horizon
too soon for my liking, looks back
over it’s shoulder, pauses in recognition
waits for me to catch up
One moment more, I ask
to bask in the presence of those I love
to assure them, myself
we were more than a memory
we were building blocks
essential to each other’s existence
haunting and fearful illustration of a man faced with his mortality. Always a powerful subject and using the pyramids as an example of a timeless legacy was perfect.
(you used an apostrophe in the possessive form of "its")