The Raven blinks

water drips from his beak,
he is beckoning me

no, it is not him
but death that beckons,
he is the watcher

he waits…

hands trembling
grabbing for something
only emptiness
stirs

no
sound

aging skin
like fragile
webs weaving
deep within

breaks away

floating in the air
stalked by desperation

I wail in despair

I feel darkness
creeping in,
dampness seeps
into my pores

drowning me
in black rain

my heart slows
to a stop,
I have gone
to the edge
of nothingness…

the Raven flies.

© Gwendolyn Brown 

Gwendolyn Brown is 55 years young and started writing poetry when she was a child. As she got older, she stopped writing poetry. However, when her Mother passed away in 2014 she wrote a poem for her funeral and has been writing ever since. Her poems are like a diary to her and are mostly about her personal life and emotions. She is a born again Christian and she also writes about her love for Jesus. To read more of her work visit:

Allpoetry: https://allpoetry.com/Gwendolyn_Brown