Vasquez

As a child frightened of the night

in my rooms I laid

Blanket to chin – fingers white knuckled

my eyes did strain for Him.

Death will come in dust and robes

to carry me away.

Time did pass so slow –  so slow

Time did pass so slow.

Battle lost to sleep

my lids did fall

to rise again at dawn.

Huddled now in sable light

my mangle leg all pain –

Death has come not in robes and dust

but the waiting palm of man.

Eager to meet my foe –

excited I take his hand –

Ready –  at last –  to sacrifice

to end the eternal war.

 

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