Meanings of Death
Colors of Death
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The Colors of Death Death is the absence of color....
It is black..
It sounds of moaning souls that
arise from the ground to haunt the living,
It tastes of maggots and raw bloody flesh.
It smells decaying corpses and withered bones,
It looks of peace and endless sleep.
Death is only the beginning of forever.
-B.Mallory
The Shades of Death
by Stephen Taylor, age 16
Down into the dark depths of death
We walk - a creeping, weeping band of
Motley dead souls. Shadows of what
We once were
And could be,
We trod the sorrowful path to the grave
With iron feet and overladen souls.
Ghostly spirits living forever in darkness
Soon become blind to much.
The light above is kept from their
View by the leaves of the canopy
Of sorrow.
Even the pale light of the moon
Fails to excite them.
We soon become unwilling victims
Of our unwillingness.
In exile from the happy, bright
Light of life,
We wallow and walk in darkness,
A misty, deep green shadow.
Death is many faced.
Like an eager young man it comes
To us and beckons for a friend.
We follow him and find that
He is a prince in disguise,
Governing a whole realm of
Unwilling souls.
Death is alive and is full of an
Energetic greed.
Our fear of it is being steeped
As we push the sun farther and
Farther westward, wishing its
Glorious warmth
Away.
Dragging the Spring of Hope back
Into the Winter of Despair,
We suffer and complain.
We are the slaves of Death
And yet do not wish to throw off
Its yoke.
We have made Death our master and
overseer.
The living are trodding happily down
The path that leads to death.
It is the dead and the dying who are
Thirsting for a draught of life.
And all the we know is that
It can be found!
Like a bright spot in a blue-gray sky,
Life beckons. Our will to live is
Strengthened by the coming nearness
Of Death.
Like an onrushing shadow
Coming at us from over the meadow,
We must outrun it, soon,
Before it overtakes us and
Transforms our living, life-giving
Souls into shades.
Out of the forest let us run,
Out of the powerful jaws of the
Devouring black necessities of
The grove in all its primeval gore.
Jump in the boat and flee down
The Inner River, away from
The quiet oppressive stillness
Of the copse of corpses,
Filling the air with a solemn
Nothingness.
Come, all ye who will!
Let us live no more
In the Shades of Death.