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Last Tears in a Mudhole
Well, all that is thee, and in me, I see my face in this mudhole
Sitting on my hands with savage sword rusty.
Crying, a last resort, a deserted haven of hate, now I seek death in cold.
Watching my tears beg for one last kiss and skies by dusty.
I plundered a bit, I won't lie to ye' all that sees me in this Reaper's shape
Crawled down six miles heaving breath.
Screaming no tears left but bloody vows and torn, ragged cape.
I'd soon see my last twinkle of eyes and face no lies but one death.
Oh, almighty be my word-a mockin' thee here, be meciful just once
I might have lost a thought 'er two, but the mud knows.
The olden crows tired, sitting near me whisper a name of dunce.
I did show stranger a bit of mercy, now even they stand and crow.
And all I wanted was die in this mudhole, I'm telling ya' truth
I have but two breaths, one death, and what then?
A lover lost, I paid twice my cost of skin, blood, and one o' my tooth.
Why, almighty? Did ye' stand muddy in my face of skin?
Watching a hypocrite win one touch, one smile and my last mile
Oh, dancer swords drawn for naught--I see through muddy water fine.
Princess and maidens frown looking the banquet of kings with my one trial
Oh, just one, only one shadow stalking no feet, no crumb, no wine.
Crying was not an easy burden as wheat, corn or tree limb rough
I was younger then, but blind as :"she" lifted by
My eyes were stolen as I lived her love twice and felt the saddle tough.
Yes, Reaper stands disgusting and soon another soul, I die.
One more favor, young man with box in hand, one favor I plead
Take the golden coin in my ragged shawl so torn and thin.
An arm of strong flesh, a hiding place in Reaper's cape I thinks I need.
I may live in my mudhole here, there, and maybe time times ten.
© 2017 Kenneth Avery