Rising from the churned earth

She glowed before me like a Vestal hearth

I approached the beauty, lured with promises of dire cope

Hesitantly, I stretched my hand with blind hope

And as my fingers finally met her

I knew I should’ve followed initial thoughts to spur

For when I opened my eyes in surprise

I saw the cold face of death giggling, hollow black sockets where there were once eyes

From underneath the being's black silken bonnet

I heard her teeth clatter as she sang a phantasmic sonnet

'We children of Totality, yearn to blossom.

Yet in life we play the possum"

I scratched my head in disbelief

Deaf to her poems, feeling self-grief

for this being, though singing free

held in her hands the chains of my mortality.

I fell to my knees and beseeched the figure

"If you give me one more chance, I'll live life with utmost moral vigor"

The Specter then cupped her mouth in a manner most coy

"It seems you have forgotten who you speak to, boy"

And as the words settle in

I am again reminded of my many-a sin

I now feebly tremble before the psychopomp

Remembering how raucously in life I used to romp

and with sudden reflection, I came to terms

In the end, we all shall feed the worms

For even the strongest feel the Reaper's gaze

Though the majority are more often focused on this worldly Samsara haze

I shake my head and come to grips

that this decision was beyond my fingertips

Enlightened now

I unfurrow by brow

And smile, now old and frail, realizing that

Even though man’s time is short, his experiences will never pale.