Lady Death, Good Night

by Vincent Mars

Midnight December- An acrylic painting by Manisha Bhatia

If on a moony night

Around the witching hour,

While the weeping willow stoops before my window,

And the mournful wind wails on the rooftop,

Lady Death creeps out of the shadows

And shows up in my room,

And glides to my bed,  

And on her way doffs her hat and slips out of her dress,

And bites her lip and whispers,

‘Now, while you are young,

Take off your overcoat of clay:

Let me show you immortality,’

How can I refuse her?

The bliss she promises,

No mortal woman can equal:




The sound of things unheard,

The taste of things untried,

The filling of the gaps,

Left by experience,

The answers to all riddles.

And what if she is cold?

And what if she is prickly?

And what if her touch decays?

Loving her will hurt,

But is not a night of pain

Worth an eternity of leisure?

Image © Manisha Bhatia
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