The Many Faces Of Death

Death carries many faces. For some, death is a welcome friend, carrying us from one life into another, for others, he is an enemy, hell bent on our demise. Others see death as something to poke fun at, while secretly hoping he never pays them a visit. He can take on many forms, appearing both male and female, hideous and beautiful. Death is coniving, manipulative and selfish. The only thing you can know for sure is that one day, he will be knocking on your door. Here are some poems about the mysterious creature that has invaded all aspects of our society.

Death's Embrace

by Lisa McCourt Hollar

Darkness surrounds me,
Keeping me safe inside,

Hiding me from the evil,

Of natures wicked ride.

Shadow is my friend,

Whispering to me,

Calling me to its depth,

Where no one else can see.

My face is scarred,

From the beating it has took,

I can not bear his laughter,

Nor her saddened,pittied look.

If she loves,

As a mother should,

Why doesn't she stop him,

Instead of standing  like wood.

As he beats me, then her,

Our cries going unheard,

By neighbors, teachers, friends,

Too busy to be stirred.

I succumb to the darkness,

Accepting its warm embrace,

For only just a moment,

To feel Deaths welcoming grace.

Death's Kiss

by Lisa McCourt Hollar

Slithering, silently, across the room,

He watches your every move,
Patiently waiting his chance to prove,


That the Boogie Man really does exist,
Biding his time, delivering deaths kiss,
Waking you from your ignorant bliss.


He plants his claim upon your soul,
Into your heart he digs a hole,
Filling the space with heated coal.


Screaming, agony, pain and weeping,
Death doesn’t come, silently, sleeping,
When Hell’s minions do the reaping.

Death's Pain
by Lisa McCourt Hollar

 Death followed, as they played,

Stalking them on the playground,
Seeking their innocence and their blood.

Their laughter taunted him,
Their voices, mocking his existence,
Their joy a painful flood,


Assaulting him with butterflies and lollipops,
Whilst burning his soul with sunshine
And gaping toothless grins.

It was too much for the Reaper,
Who lived shrouded in darkness and misery
Surrounded by fear and secret sins.


He was the taker of souls,
The purveyor of death
And the boogie man all rolled into one.


They had no right to be happy,
When all he knew was misery and darkness,
While they played in the sun.


It was unfair,
Fate had sentenced him to a life in the dark,
Alone and bitter, betrayed and spurned,


And so he stalked them,
Quietly planning their demise,
While inside his cloak, his anger burned

copyright 2011 Lisa McCourt Hollar.  All rights reserved