Death

You have a mesmerizing way of expressing yourself... A dark enchantment filled with stars... This is beautiful! Raven "Seasons don't fear The Reaper, Nor do the wind, the Sun or the Rain..." -Blue Oyster Cult

I've been meaning to comment on this one for quite some time, but there seems to be a problem with the arrangement of the lines (this can easily be just my warped notebook, had the same problem with another poem recently, but please doublecheck if it looks the way you wanted it to look). I adore your theme here, have done my own ramblings along the same lines often. Sadly, there are a couple of typos in this little beauty and the odd comma might be a good idea, too: axe that he wields - it is our ally, our comrade - oh yes, it's his passion - give in to his will, release yourself - Free yourself from the prison of daylight, unlock the shackles of the sun The moon is our liberator, Grim is our benefactor Salvation, we will frolic Yours, ~Nina

I found your poem in which you personify Death to be quite enthralling. Only one small point, in the past, it is a scythe (with which to cut the blades of grass, to which each life is likened) not an ax. But I do appreciate poetic license. Good work, here. Always, Cat

I like this a lot! I love any writing with a dark side. To me this is prose, it's good but it needs a little work. I took the liberty of fixing the errors and changed some words. I think you should try working on it with Nina and Cat. They are very good at dark poetry or prose. I sure that this is a first draft, written on the fly. Here follows my suggestions. It's your write so please don't be offended: "Old wives tales say my friend the Grim Reaper popped out of horror stories ”He is evil.” they say “he is a curse, a curse of death, he is doom” “If he comes to you there is no hope for tomorrow, it is over.” Old ladies clutches their breast at the sight of him, with his dirty black cloak and skeletal face covered in the shadows of his hood then with his long bony fingers beckon us to follow him into the darkness. Of course he frightens with that long bloody scythe he clutches tightly so trust me I understand, I don’t at all blame them, I don’t shun. Come meet my love. I blame the faint at heart for misunderstanding my friend. Those without knowledge, classify my dear friend as some sort of bogey man, oh but they are wrong, those who fear the night, who bask in the inferno rays of the sun. He is a gentle soul who only wants to help us, the darkness is not our enemy No! It is our ally, our comrade. Grim invites us to play in the twilight. There is no beauty like that of the festival of the nocturnal creatures Let him take you on an adventure to the land of the dark daughters The moon is our beautiful chaperon, he watches over the party He will take you by the hand and lead you away from the light don’t fear him he wants to help, give in to his will release yourself from the confines that dawn puts on us, Free yourself from the prison of daylight unlock the shackles of the sun The moon is our liberator Grim is our benefactor, he will lead us to our Salvation, we will frolic in the night never having to face the curse of morning It is a party worth joining if you have the spirit to let go of the light, the dark is so much more fun! Oh hail the night, and all its crowning glory. Join the children of twilight. Thanks always, Eddie