Deaths Kiss


Slender beams of moonlight
enter this darkened chamber,
illuminating it’s walls. 
Waking my senses
to the warmth of its glow, 
the star’s cry out
to my somber mood. 

Outside these walls
lay shadows and grasslands,
its a place for valley dwellers,
and city folk. 

The wind’s begin to blow, 
as the chilling winters
grown,
and growl
at the valley’s below. 

Ghostly apparitions move about, 
whipping by tipping its hat. 
Death is bowing his head, 
leaning in for the kiss. 

Sigh’s of woe ache through the streets 
as villagers wake to a gruesome seen, 
some stranger unseen came to set; 
at the bedside of the dying and the sick 
leaving them weekend,
weary,
ghostly,
and ghastly.  
Death admitted his grace,
the best way he could.
Leaving kisses on foreheads of
the dying.

Amanda Shelton

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