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Red- Chan

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Member Since: Feb, 2006

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The Sheen of a Pearl
by Red- Chan

Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Red- Chan
•  Life's Mysteries
•  I am not who I seem to be
           >> View all 3

Ah......the wonders of fantasy...

He lay wounded on the barren wasteland,
Sinking into the sand.
His friends and comrades surrounded him,
Their deaths already at hand.

The sun glared down upon the lad,
No more than twenty-five.
The greedy sand beneath him drank,
The blood he needed to thrive.

The day succumbed to merciless night,
And coldness did descend.
The poor lad’s soul, like bird, took flight
Away from its old friend.

His mind slept deeply in savoring warmth,
He floated above the Earth.
The pains of mortal wounds subside,
Withdrawing from the hearth.

He woke to find some watchful eyes,
He held his bated breath.
To find a child by his side
The child known as Death.

“What happened? Where are we and why?”
The child merely smiled.
“You’ve died and left your corpse behind.”
The child, like all, beguiled.

He stood and flexed ethereal pow’r,
The child smiled and laughed.
The lad discovered a newfound strength,
Two wings upon his back.

The pure white feathers shivered and shook,
But not from cold of space.
The lad began to panic and fear,
That heav’n was not his place.

“I’ve killed so many, I don’t belong!”
His eyes were wide with fear.
The child smiled again and said,
“No fears, your place is here.”

Amazed and stunned he looked and saw,
The rotating orb below.
The sun was rising on his home,
A thousand miles below.

He turned to Death, who watched the Earth,
“Then why not Hell below?”
Death smiled “What you saved was worth far
More than you could e’er know.”

Another child’s cryptic smile,
One flash, a run down church.
His second battle, his first kill,
His stomach gave a lurch.

Another flash, inside this time,
Blankets along the floor.
Women huddled with their kids
Many younger than four.

“Is this what I protected then?
Before I left this world?”
He fluttered his maturing wings,
Now the sheen of a pearl.

Death chuckled wryly, “Ironic, this.
That Fate dealt you this hand.
The same thing happened to your dad,
In other foreign lands.”

Wings rustled as he searched his vest,
He had his treasure to find.
He pulled out a feather, Death looked on,
The lad didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, he clasped the feather tight,
The feather suddenly shined.
“Could you, perhaps, transport me home?
If you would be so kind?”

Death nodded, he returned to home,
His wife and son asleep.
He wandered through familiar halls,
Thinking of little Toby.


He came to Toby’s room softly.
A moan of pain, a tear.
“Grow up to be stronger than me,
for you have naught to fear.”

He left and went to his wife’s room.
A moan of pain, a tear.
“I’m sorry to have left so soon,
be strong for Toby, dear.”

He finally ascended then,
Death right by his side.
The feather slipped from his grip
As he said good bye.

His wife and child awoke next morn,
And as their hands uncurled,
Two feathers fell at the same time,
Both the sheen of a pearl.

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Reviewed by Sandie Angel 3/4/2006
Red- Chan,

This was EXCELLENT!!!!! I like a well-told tale within a poem. Well-done indeed!

Sandie May Angel a.k.a. Sandie Angel :o)
Reviewed by Red- Chan 3/4/2006



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