#2

The idea for this poem came to me one night when I was taking a nice midnight walk on the canal. My mind being what it is, wandered. After a while it finally settled on the idea of how many different possible ways I could die on that night. Morbid maybe but it is interesting. 

Death Recurrence

Taking solace

In a silent walk

Through the darkness,

Through the forest.

With bubbles of speculations

Floating within my mind, of demise.

A canal crosses my path

With a bridge straining across.

Standing on the hump of the bridge

I peer into the flowing water,

And there is a wavy shadow

Of a man standing on the rail.

I hurl myself in

To greet the chilly algae stained water.

As I floated away with putrid liquid

Steeping into my lungs,

There was a wisp of a man

Watching me.

I see him.

I see London.

I see France.

Momentarily, The Scream

Echoes within the ripples.

And then it is gone.

I turn away from the mirages

That have provided with illusions.

I no longer wish to look at them.

Walking side by side with canal,

With leaves streaming by.

I come upon a man

Dressed in the dark

With gleaming toothy grim grin.

With a rasp, I meet the ground.

Hello there, said the ground.

I hope that you will enjoy your stay

For you will not be staying

Much longer.

The stranger walks by,

Brushing my presence off.

I tire of the trees and this canal.

Walking silently past the floating leaves,

Till I arrive quietly at my bed.

I lie upon it.

Pop! Goes an artery

Within my brain as I sleep.

It took three days for somebody

To find my bloated body.

I wake to sunshine

And birdsong.

Leaving behind room full of

Sickly sweet scent,

I walk silently again.

Pass the same trees,

Taking care to step over

The red puddle

Within chalk outline.

I arrived upon the bridge,

Still groaning across the canal.

With a glimmer of moaning,

I see a familiar figure

Floating underneath me,

Toward London

Toward France

Toward Oblivion, wherever that might be.