On a Dark Night
Hiding in the garden with a dark night on show,
stands the cloaked figure, and the ferryman is waiting to go.
Looking through the window, at children by the bed,
anticipation of another soul, fleeting around his head.
Neighbours and friends are parked at the curbside,
no one able to say, "it was a short life, is he dead".
Pacing the length of the garden now,
cloak flying in the wind, with wildness in his eyes,
his face grimaced, intimidating in spring.
There's a howl to the sun, a sight to behold,
family in the bushes, preparing a big hole.
"Old Fred is dead we hear," no applause tonight,
He left no legacy, he left no light.
Death marches recklessly, least anyone appears,
"This soul is mine for the taking, I have waited all these years."
"I will wait no more for old Fred, his body is mine by rights,
I thrown down my challenge, the gauntlet immediately in sight."
For standing in the shadows of the garden, Gabriel suddenly in the light,
"Death be gone, I command you, this soul is mine,
"Old Fred has been a faithful companion, I have watched him all the time.
Guide dogs come and go, but Fred has always been mine."
"And here is where his body shall lay, you have nothing to gain.
Be gone you now death before I have you slain."