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When the Dark Passenger comes calling
I remember when the dark passenger Came for his first ride so long ago Like a thief in the night he comes slithering Creeping like a fitfull dream of awakening And crawls through your mind into your very soul By then you are in to deep to recover Even though I was quite nervous and unsteady The guidance of the dark passenger was uncanny Jagged and rough dissections were quickly replaced Incisions became so very smooth and tidy Any competent surgeon would be most envious You learn to act and think quickly A no mess,no fuss sort of thing So many uncountable victims now Always watching the shadows of darkness When the morning light comes streaming in I`ll do it again and again Death is but a blink of an eye
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2011-09-24 22:08:32
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
The person of death; there is the image of the visitor, the reason for the visit, all play within the same substance. One is the servant to the other, who is to the other, who then refers to the first. I wondered as I read, what would make me watch for the shadows, or the coming, or simply the relevance in the moment of the dark one. I could issue the feeling in war, or a wreckage as I awaited rescue, or some sort of less ignominious occasion; and then there is also life… which in reality is set in a setting that is destined to death and therefore, waiting or not, death will come, nevertheless. An interesting read, of darkness and death and anticipation.
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