MicroHorror

The bell chimes, announcing death
Calling one and all as witness
To behold a strangled neck
Marked as an example
For none to follow as lead
Lest they welcome death
With open arms, and bitterness
On their tongues and on their minds
 
Children run through the streets
In a race against their excitement
Squeezing through an anxious audience
Shoving their way up front
For their first, unhampered view
Of the freshly dead as its
Puppet-like dance nears an end
 
The rope, straining with deadweight,
Barely glides back and forth now,
Reminding some of a ticking clock
Winding down and out of time
 
Faces in the crowd reflect hatred
Shock rounds others’ eyes
Cheers ride the group in waves
Awe sits on children’s visages
As they lick their penny candy
And enjoy the larger-than-life show,
Which introduces
Their innocent souls to death,
And label it as commonplace
 
Beneath his dark cloak,
Death winks at the children one by one
And motions for each to take his hand
Shyly, they each decline and run
Back to their mothers’ skirts
Where safety clings to their bones
And where they peep from around
The folds of material to confirm
That they imagined the strange,
Dark man, whose hand is outstretched,
With invisible offerings

The children sigh as one–
A gesture which defies their years
And gives away their fears
As they realize their mothers’ skirts
Hold no safety from Death
He will have his way… one day…
He shall have his say