Poems by Grantly Marshall

DEATH

Moving down the pathways of everyday life, Is a lurking shadow as sharp as a knife.

Like the prowling lion that waits for its kill, With a growling stomach that can never be filled.

Though this beast of the jungle has a limitless field, Its cunning is such that its victims ALL yield.

You might think I’m joking or talking a spree. But watch your next step, for that devil is me!

Yes I’m death and I’m waiting for you, And sooner or Iater I’ll get you too!

From your moment of birth you come under my power, And remain in my grasp till your very last hour.

Like the slave to its master you’re just one of my tools, Caught up in a game in which I make the rules.

Like the soldier in battle who answered I won’t! You get killed if you do and shot if you don’t!

You can run, you can hide, but you’ll never be free, For around the next corner I’ll be waiting with glee!

Yes I’m death and I’m waiting for you, And sooner or later I’ll get you too!

But since I can’t be beaten let me give you a tip, There are two ways to go when you’re taking this trip.

Like the little rabbit you can quiver and shake, and die a half-death with each move that you make.

 Or you can s l o w I y turn and look at me with despise.

Then throw back your head and spit in my eyes!

Then fight for your life till you’re very last breath, But I welcome both answers, for my name is DEATH!