The Unknown Hour…#11

 Ravens are coming together at my gate; I hear voices calling to me. Turmoil lingers within my soul, imaginary walls rise around me.  Imaginary chains wrapped around Iron gates.  Is this God’s will?  Under the ground, the body turns to dust.  A black sky hovers, blazing clouds drink from the moon, life is short, and death is too soon.  Bewildered, deceive by family and friends, born in exile, caressed by evil winds.  Desert, ocean and the sky, God has forsaken me, sealing my heart, soul and eyes.  It may come from Heaven or Hell, no one will ever know.  Repent…repent…its hell.  Repent…Repent…Repent….

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Authors Note:

Death particularly the death of humans   has commonly been considered a sad or unpleasant occasion, due to the affection for the being that has died and the termination of social and familial bonds with the deceased. Other concerns include fear of death, anxiety, sorrow, grief, emotional pain, depression, sympathy, compassion, solitude.   Many cultures and religions have the idea of an afterlife, and also hold the idea of reward or judgments and punishment for past sin.  birth, life, and eventual death.  My poem is dark in nature…Black Ravens gathering, the recognition of voices and imaginary chains.  Questioning God’s will.  Everything dark, all bewildered, evil approaches. All functions lost, eyes, soul, heart.  Will I be forsaken?  Must we repent?  Ah…the imagination of the poet never stops.

©elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

Love and Peace

Elizabeth

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